I wish,
that there was a way,
that I can make you feel,
on the good days,
as good as you do me.

When we put one another down
in black and white,
"good vs bad,"
we come out about the same
it seems...
Save for this one outstanding thing.

I've tried to reflect how good
you make me feel
back to you,
in any way I could find.

And I don't think
that you're not hearing me,
I just believe
that I don't have the same magic
as you perhaps.
I don't know how to make you feel
as good as you do me.

.... But I can rest tonight,
knowing that I have tried.

And being the person that I am,
still ever hopeful of things,
I know that I will continue.

My love will continue,
and therefore continue to try.

I can't decide for you,
(and it is a decision. That, I know)
what your feelings are to be for me.
I can't make the good times,
for you,
as good as they are for me.

... But I still don't know how
to stop trying.


[and that's what love is i think]

Something in me's changed,
I know you've seen
and I've got something to say
about "you & me."

You're the one who
haunts my dreams.
And I wanna be the one
who makes you believe

...in the kind of man to you
              that I could be .


What started out as "kid love"
then turned deep,
And I thought it might break
with all the miles we've seen.

No matter how I've tried,
i just can't shake
The thought of "forever,"
however long that takes .


I had a daydream
of you  &me
Sharing headphones
on a flight overseas

Listening to Dispatch's "America"
and feeling free,
Your head on my shoulder
smiling

...with miles ahead
     no longer in between .

Some people are hard not to love,
Like Ernie
Ernie and I just got a fire going good in his backyard.
Then he went inside, and left me alone with it.
Saying, "just enjoy the fire. When you want to come inside, come inside. But just enjoy the fire."
Friends like this are few and far between, I know, I have a lot of friends.

My life is a mess. My nails are a mess. My relationship is a mess...
And i,
just needed this fire tonight.

Someone said to me recently,
I have a way of writing things poetically.
And maybe it's not poetry, exactly.
But as the fire burns,
and the embers in me turn...
I know I feel much more at peace.

Payday.

I feel broken and beaten down and antisocial. I wander aimlessly through Walmart trying to find snacks for lunches to pack. I make my way from cookies and crackers to liquor turn left , electronics, uninterested. I find myself looking at luggage and backpacks, and then into the camping section.  Grab some paracord, seems like I always need that. A pocket knife, only five bucks. Then, I'm looking at sleeping bags...

I'm lost.

Lost and knowing I'm lost, in a world of normalcy that doesn't suit me. I leave the grocery store with a bag of granola, because I only know how to pack for hiking and train rides.

Two more months of harvest left.

Bobby the cat sits in the yard outside,
with a ****** of crows on his mind.
Seven to be exact,
perched in a tree up high.
As Bobby,
down below in the grass where he lies
never flinching an eye, just stares wishing...     Wishing he could fly.

I,
made my bed.
I put prickly pear jelly on toast,
with an egg.
I ,
get me a coffee with lots of sugar,
and roll a cigarette.

I smoke, and watch,
and write and think...
And I see,
A little too much of Bobby the cat
sometimes, in me.

A wounded heart makes
no pleasant sounds
Sober fools can write
sweeter words down

A thousand miles can seem dizzy
but 8 thousand, barely shifting
Salty sea waters of morning sway
longings of big ocean home waves

Loss is temporary
BEING lost is not
Drifting by choice
until options forgot