The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

How exquisite was her shape
How flawless her form
Only on special occasions should such beauty be worn.
Every millimeter within her frame enhanced my view of God's wonderful creation
From the baby blue earth sky and the forest green of nature, to every long and frustrating paper I had to write.
She was there... captivating and processing every image from the back of my brain.
That was until I broke my precious frames.

He picked up his last check and proceeded out the building into the cold winter snow.  
Each footprint shaped like the tears streaming down his rough beard. Snowflake after snowflake each touching him with a cold flame, melting away the emotional armour revealing a little boy.
Entering the 96’ camry he starts the ignition, as the car slowly chokes out the cold air…
He sits there…
staring out the windshield, as the night incarcerates him.
Entering a mental Interrogation where there is no good or bad cop, just a man asking himself
“Why me?”
“Why now?”
“How am I supposed to…?”
“What I am I supposed to…?”

He strikes the steering wheel like hammer and nail.

Mouth silent, eyes screaming…

Minutes down the slushy road he arrives at the one story home. Approaches the small black door,  opens it and is tackled by four warm children.  
Each building back new pieces of armour within him. Their smiles and laughter freed him from the cold dark imprisonment into the new flickering flame of faith and freedom.

If only they could see his
worried thoughts
and beneath his eyes,
eyes that only revealed a good time...

If only they could see a man's cry.

When submerged
There are two outcomes
To allow oneself to drown or to
Fight for your air
But either way
The soul will go on
It's way a lot further
Than you knew

feeling alive feels like
yellow flowers growing in my bones
and blooming on my skin
it feels like the sun rises
not in the east
but from within me