the thing is:
I don’t want to know

things are already bad enough
I don’t really need the good parts
to be soiled forever by truth

I’d rather leave those happy, if,
false

they’re like
photographs carried in my mind
for when the days turn long
or the road turns dark

because sometimes
those happy times are
what you need to get
through it all

so don’t spoil them
don’t make me throw them
away

it may seem funny to you,
why’d I’d never want to know

but I do know
but I can’t be certain
and sometimes tricking yourself
is the only way to make it through
this life

it’s a quiet acceptance,
knowing fully that rest is not
yet for you

though the muscles are clay
the mind sand

you are not angry
that quitting time is not
near

it is after this,

after the struggle against it
has faded
and the desperation
to get out has long
gone,

that you
can continue to
march on

endlessly,
if you so choose.

there are turtles
imitating floating logs
and
shiny fish fluttering
just underneath
the water

there is a family of ducks
sunning on the shore
and
an old pontoon caked
with dirt and
mud

there are trees of many kinds
and
light glimmers
off its wind-blown surface

there are beads of sweet
on my face
and
my heart is
pounding

in a few minutes
I will see one of my friends
and
wave to her and her
dog

there is not much here,
in reality,
but
a whole world
seems to bloom in the
afternoon sun

I have only just now
figured it out why I burst
into tears that night
and I asked you to hold me
as I cried in your arms

it was the first time
I have ever been afraid

I was lost
I saw the reaper
I considered the worst,
made plans to sleep alone in
a place I did not know,
I was terrified of the terror
pumping through my veins
and that is why I came home
needing you so bad

thank you
for knowing that
I needed you

thank you for all that you
did

I hoped one day to repay you,
but I suppose some debts must
go unsettled

taking in a big breath,
puffing up my chest,
growing, swelling,
looming,
deep fire burns
in the pit of my soul,
the flame flares with fresh oxygen,
screaming out the heat,
I stare at the world,
defiant, cocky,
on fire.

air filled with hatred
sanity ****** clean
from the atmosphere,
I drown as the pressure
goes critical

ground now gone,
stability disappeared
into the dark void,
I beg for death in a
world devoid of life

I face my past tomorrow

with a bandana across my eyes
and a cigarette hanging
out of my mouth

I expect the worst
and
deserve the worst
and
I do not care

I am turning my back on what was
and turning forward to what may be

am I arrogant?
perhaps

but I feel it only fitting
to look back at all their angry
faces with knowing
smirk

laughing at them
for hardly expecting it,
and even more so for
not having a clue
why