My hope for us is like
lightning bugs in a jar,
blinking every now and then
like a distant star.

Growing dimmer,
dying in the jar,
and gone forever
if I set them free to fly afar.

She said, as she walked out
and slammed the door –
I don’t know why I wasted
all these years with you!

I guess she doesn’t realize
I wasted those years too.

We were strangers
Then lovers
Now strangers again.
Red Rover, Red Rover.
Send someone new over.

Sometimes I stay up too late
and I start to think
and then I think too much.

And when I think too much
I start to remember,
And then I remember too much.

And when I remember too much,
I start to drink
and then I drink too much.

And then I go to bed
and stare at the ceiling
and I stare and think too much.

And when I go to sleep
I dream of losing you
and then I dream too much.

And then I wake up
from my dream of losing you.
And then I scream too much.

There are some bruises
collected along the way
that I just never
talk about.

Words, said and unsaid.
Backs turned away.
Eyes, staring fierce
or just turned down

People sometime leave a mark –
probably never knowing
they put a dent in some
unsuspecting heart.

I would guess
I’ve left some too.

Along the road I’ve learned
a few things about goodbye.

Sometimes, when it doesn’t hurt,
I realize it was probably simply
the right thing to do.

And sometimes, when I lay awake
for nights afterwards,
I know it was all wrong.

What I have not learned
is how to tell which is which
before goodbye.

Sometimes writing
is my only link
to sanity,
my last-grasp handle
between this crazy
every day world
and the world
I want to see
and want to
believe can be.