I met a man
who found monsters in the mirror
rather than himself
and for the first time
i felt as if i could give everything
and hold back at the same time
and this man would understand.
There was no pressure,
no expectations,
just time and patience and comprehension
that verbal confirmation of demons
was the only thing that made sense to us.
I have only known this man
for days
but his soul says years.
I have this weird theory
that some people are drawn to each other
because their atoms were near each other
when the universe was created.
Now, i am uncertain if this pertains
to him and i
but his friendship comes easy
and his words even easier.
I've told him about struggling
and how i am expected to be strong
but he told me
we can't all be strong forever.
Not even Atlas carried the weight of the heavens
for all eternity.

cold stream of air,
clear, raw sky, rare
wisps and little shrouds
or shawls of clouds
fast fleeting.

low sun lancing,
screened less
by intervening
trees' unleaved undress.

I stand in fleece
and boots, out back
a breath, a break
of afternoon, the stir,
to mark the slide away
of bright and shivering day.

Upon the beaten path I walked
and though I tired still I walked  
upon a glittering stone I came
and I stopped in my palm It lay
upon my gaze It shone
but in my heart reach it did not
upon the beaten path it fell
and still on I walked

upon a young woman I came
her eyes, upon me, she looked
a flutter Within I felt
and in my arms I wished she lay
But upon my heavy tongue my words stopped
and upon me ceased look did she
so upon the beaten path I walked
my tears slowly following me

tired a grew of this beaten path i knew
upon my tired frame exhaustion came
and down I went to Sit
Upon my beating heart relief came
and with it a wash my memory came
Of a time where on this  long road I did not walk
and upon my relaxed heart came grief
brief my rest was and up I stood
and upon my beaten path I walked
my past barely understood


upon an old well I came
Parched my throat had become
so away from my beaten path I strayed  
my journey temporarily delayed

upon the water did the light shimmer beside lay a  bucket
upon it I wished to drink so down the bucket want to sink
up it came with satisfactions wink
upon my lips did I drink
and upon my mind was I releaved
But upon the bottom lay a snake
Its  poison within the water  it slyly  lay
upon the road did I go
blissful in what I did not know

upon my eyes the darkness came
sluggish my legs began  to feel
  and upon my mind worry came
as upon  the path my body fell
Rasping came my breath  labored came my air
But upon  the ground i began to see
all that had been around me
upon the scenery came beauty
And upon my heart did it reach

upon the road had I stayed when all around me I could have played
upon the second when the reaper called
I cursed not the path  I took
for upon   the  moment of my death
at last I came to my peace
upon the goal of the path did I clearly see
For without the beaten path beauty waiting in the scenery would I have missed entirely

I have been so tired lately, and even more so lonely
I try to muffle the screams of my loneliness with a soft bed, warm blankets and a pillow to hold onto
Nothing feels alright without you, and hardly anything feels alright with you
We can be described as two people talking at the same time in a conversation, but instead of laughing about it we become sad and bitter with ourselves and with the other
I wish things weren't this way.
I am tired with an angry sadness and you are tired with a guilty blame-fullness that resides deep in both of us
I love you so much
But I am so tired

I want to wrap myself around you and dissolve into you, warming your skin and holding your heart
I don't want things to be like this
I want both of us to be happy with each other

love

i'm in love with the idea of being loved

because i don't think i ever really was

i was always drunk on the thought of it all

just trying to patch myself together with the concept

i stitched you into me until you ripped the stitches off

now all i'm left with is this abundance of scars

love

Today i decided the past can't haunt me forever.

So i looked at the notes and scribbled words,
that represented who i was,
a bit more than a year ago.
And i wished to wash them away away,
in the wistful waves of an of forgetting.

But i recently learned,
that forgetting will do me no good.
Because the things that are forgotten continue to crawl there way back,
and try to tear through the holes in those paper thin walls,
that you build just to block them all out.

So instead of forgetting,
I tore up the fragments of old thoughts,
that i had once scribbled out so carelessly.
And burnt the cold stony documents,
that they said depicted a better future for me.

as I looked at the tiny shards of paper,
covered in crumpled up words.
and watched the hot hungry flames,
eat up the cries of the past.
I saw the once so meaningful sentences,
fall apart into meaningless words.
and I watched the things that I filled with so much contempt,
crumble to ashes and dust.

I felt that chapter of my book has been finished.
The last open door has been closed.

I know that the past will come back to me,
time after time, after time.
But I think there are already enough ghosts in the world,
that I can let go
and no longer be haunted  by mine.