At my high school reunion
Years from now
In the old gym
They'll ask, whatever happened to us anyway
I won't have an answer for them
It'll be a shoulder shrug
Upward palms
And a colon backslash face
They'll move on to my son
Or work
Or school
Or some distant memory which will undoubtadly begin with, "remember that time"
And most likely end with, "those were the days"
And while they move on with their conversations
I will still have a colon backslash face
And my mind will be in a completely different time machine than the prom queen and the class clown
I will
By the end of it all
Have devoted what I can only imagine to be significantly more time than alotted
Thinking about what did ever happen to us anyway
And when I go home to what I anticipate being a beautiful, intellegent, loving wife, girlfriend, fiancee thing
She will
For a moment
Or possibly two moments
Not measure up to you
And I hope she won't notice my colon backslash face
That she'll end up smiling until she falls asleep

The morning after my high school reunion
I will stand in front of my mirror
And for much longer than two moments
I will not measure up
To the man you could have made me
And I will notice
I will start by ******* in my gut
Running my hands through my hair to try and imagine myself with a different style
I will analyze my wardrobe
And half way through auditing my music collection I will fall to the floor
I will cry
And with you in the forefront of my mind
I will
In true movie scene fashion
Whisper to no one
Whatever happened to us anyway
And worse than not having an answer at the reunion
I won't have an answer for myself
In an empty living room
Because I really don't know whatever happened to us anyway
One day we were
The next day we weren't
It was so adult
I was so civil
Even our break-up will be the best I ever had

The day before my high school reunion
I will cut my hair
Trim my arm pits
And clip my beard
I will iron a suit
Pick a good tie
And I imagine
In front of a mirrror
I will
Be proud of the man I have become

In the years going forward
And leading up to that high school reunion
I will
As a matter of life's course
Have no other occasion
To ask myself
Whatever happened to us anyways
But never the less
One night
Years from now
That question
Will leave me paralyzed
Scared
Heartbroken
Lonely
And even if
I am not alone
My pillow will remember
For one night
Or maybe even two nights
How to smell like you
And my arms
If only for a half a moment
Or possibly one whole moment
Will
With no luck
Reach for you

In New York there lives a man,
Who has everything.
The penthouse suite and Lamborghini.
The millions upon millions of dollars.
Enough to save the man in Syria
Starving every night as war wrecks his country.
In the twenty-four hours the day has,
One man shows compassion;
Saves the life of one who would have taken his.
The other shuts the door on the ones who love him,
Pours another drink of whiskey and ignores them.
Every day has twenty-four graciously alotted hours,
Meant for us to attempt to change the things we see.
Some people misuse it, others abuse it.
Still all the same those twenty-four hours should be used for change.

There's a woman, broken and beaten,
On the streets of Madrid alone.
She cries every night over the pain
Of the memories of her family.
Of the man she thought she knew.
Across the world in Tokyo is a girl,
She cries for the same thing,
A father forgotten in the mess.
Who will save them when they come
Down on their knees and their worlds
Are crashing in?
Every day has twenty-four graciously alotted hours,
Meant for us to attempt to change the things we see.
Some people misuse it, others abuse it.
Still all the same those twenty-four hours should be used for change.

Perhaps it is the phenomenon
of being constantly,
perfectly out of reach that
keeps me going in the mornings
when there is no glow,
& the comfort of living within
my alotted skin has vanished.

Perhaps it is the season,
these months of leaves
cascading,
that guides me,
gently,
down.

my heart no longer
wonders or wanders
but beats with a
serenity scorched
by chaos and
left alone

alone with my thoughts
pain but then
forgiveness
my thoughts
it is finished
peace in the storm

To have an affair ... is different than to cheat
cheating is bad but the affair has it beat
My affair, not one that had been planned
It's something i'm ashamed of ...
I musn't ... I cant.
the pushy counselor pressuring me to talk, let it out, she predicts that it'll fell good ...
she has no idea what's about to come out of this messy confession. an affair, coming from under the trunk of this hood.
i'll be the first to testify of it's illusion
opposite of its face value,
misery and loneliness will be the only winner.
Like dying and going to the medium place where utopia does not exist, contingent to utopia's disappearance it only makes sense that hell would delete itself as well?
haven't we longed for the day when there'd be no such thing as hell? Then we'd be free?
Life's twisted humor,
everything has an opposite, an article of faith
being positioned isn't possible without opposition to accompany its lifeless soul,
It preys on the thriving, takes from the present, holds the living hostage as it meets up with  fear and justice, freedom and sadness. birthing the first of many to come,
dicontentment is born and swooned and rocked, fed and held, growing so strong
these thoughts in my mind ...?
you see,
i thought were mine were mine that I could actually be SAFE for ONCE the only place i am safe and free of interference, has been compromised...
discontentment has spread like a wildfire this morning, the remains the evident unsupervised testimony.
and as conciousness demanded an invite inside my mind, I insisted i would clean and make space first, denying my insistence of alone time.
i opened the door, my body quickly analyzed a familiarly foreign emotion,
My mind, the mitochondria, could detect a feeling like this in a crowd of a million waldo's,
This home has felt plenty of drive by emotions all of which fall sorrowfully short,
Relief, one  emotion i've never known well, but good enough to  consider an aquantaince, My higher self, the God dwelling in me
is only awaken by my ego's alarm going off at the maximum volume alotted,
My ego has always disappointed me and always will, a true representation of its impulsiveness no awareness of self control
Demons survive,(yes survive) the lowest level of vibration due to it's subsisting unvarnished truth,
shame and survival are the vibrational levels of those who die,
living and surviving,
"He who is slow to wrath has great understanding,
and unlike my actions, he who is impulsive exalts folly"
God says it himself, a fool will never see the gates
those pearly gates, I pray, will be a presentiment that the abuse i've endured on earth has always been accounted for.  I pray my damaged,not to mention, and terribly fragile sixteen year old learns to stand up for herself.
I'm sorry for the fear I put her through and all the criticism, My God i don't even think it's normal the tight leash i set before my, adolescent at the time
I snap out of what seemed like a continuous paralysis where i cant stop vomiting out my emotions.,
"I feel .... not good amie,"
Of course this is your ego denouncing its reign, you better believe it's stopping it's feet like mad,
I get what you're getting at Doc, but that's not the case for me,I work in recovery so i know how tough it can be to let go of ego's control.
If it isn't you ... tell me more about your sixteen self, what happened to you? why are you sorry to her? How did you hurt her?
the real inquiry to be at is, was that you that hurt her? you an innocent teeny bopper,
I know you don't see yourself as innocent,because you felt all grown up,
or maybe you've felt misunderstood since a child which is it for you nisey?
she notices the sting of silence,  must've been chilly for a princess like her
she probably has never known a cold night, i think and quickly think better of, once i feel the green-eyed monster creeping up, my enemy, the one i resist
so with that said it is the one that pursues, I know it is because I delight in it that it has an extraordinarily special control over my ego
"Or maybe, my sixteen year old snapped I am exhausted of justifying my actions to people who never listened"
I am the party that shame and depression loves to crash late at night, whenever they spot out happy with their
laser beam focus and their macular degeneration"
God acting as an Implantable Miniature Telescope,
as I unleash my arsenal of scriptures, he sits with his mouth pursed, his pursuit to relinquish his pain and hate, written all over him, his body vocalizing all the hate he refused to articulate through linguistic expression as his special form of punishment, wrapped specifically for me
I give the gift a home and take it as an
accolade of the abuse my ego thinks i'd win for staying.
water and oil.
needless to say, these enemies are not holding one another hostage, instead their proverb differing in hindsight,

Their moral compass, primarily, astray from the "good" commandments".,
the same commandments seen as good, although there is no such thing as good or bad, obviously i've had one too many philosophy lessons,
Now like every great philosopher I delight in inquiry,
It used to bother me amie,
surpising to those who know me as goddessnisey, my altar ego that is ingenious in its successful attempts at imitation of my authentic self, minus the flaws, has people fooled,
My inauthentic self, the one that needs to know everything before trusting, the one that misses out on opportunities because she let's impulsiveness govern her actions.
To that little girl, I owe the grandest of apologies, I'm talking like the kind the cops owed rodney,
the one's that took hold of me,  Covered me in shame and loneliness, .
dolizing
finally got on top and now it's my *****, only thing is
now habituated by their entire nation of people go by the saying birds of a feather flock together, they do not associate, because they are opposite.


Where did this relationship go i ask amie, my,newly discovered personal guru, that i'm paying a **** load to vent to,!?
like the housing of my body I am inconsistent
personification live in the flesh, as absolute irony and it's downer cousin named realistic, tag along to keep this broken law of language a secret,(only writers will get what im saying)
GASP* a breath of fresh air  reveals itself in the highest light promising that if you choose your freedom, and reveal your secret, she will personally bring you freedom and peace.
neighboring discontentment,  I am a survivor of fire at it's wildest,
Like an incurable error the pilot finds in the computer's main frame,
I am that pilot as i begin to confess, called it a day...
beckoning for professional help
but they were not my doing
long time enemies and both close to me,
old-time cliches they love to preach ....
"you'd do best to keep your friends close that way it
distracts your enemies from the intentional tenure you have on them."
weighing my options i decide to speak, silence is death, im smarter than that
I just can't tell you how sorry i am, I told him
not because of what i've done
but because i'd do it again
His mouth was closed,
But he wasn't quiet I could hear him,
The sound of his heart begin to slow,
and for every woman out there, this is when you know...
heart-break is real.
He refused word of mouth but that did not forestall the howling of his heart, an injured wolf
true to character, injured, no forced deal.
His eyes spoke everything that his genetically encrypted ability to stay poker face, failed to exceed at
it took for him to shut his mouth, and just listen as he'd promised
we may need a doctor over here stat,
I know once I've told him that if given a choice ,
Him or her ...
he'd end up disappointed .
he had a way of upholding his secret self hate from childhood,
just like us all, carrying across our baggage, picking up more and expecting to climb mountains.
converting it into tortuous rituals and facades, he wears it across his chiseled countenance so well, you'd think this is who he is.
My problem is , so does he...
I tell HER about him all the time, in hopes that the buddhist teaching will be the key
They say what you hate is a reflection of what you resist in yourself.So i know he'd maintain face, at least until I got on with the confession,because I'd do the same,
that's the honest painful truth... an artifact in this raw and true moment, The highest self in me has decided I am ready
for yet another piece of wisom,
every year,
a new piece watching as if they were refereeing the play offs.
then i realize, this is the play offs I am the main star and I have the ball, the therapist told me herself, it's my turn to talk ..
worry filling the abyss in the center of me, as nervousness takes over my anatomy, triggering negative feedback and certainlymy body breaks down in an immediate cry for ventilation,
Then it dawned on me, I am the negative feedback , an excuse, a sad one.
Catlystic I am it's true, negative feedback, the return of part of an output signal to the input
blaming my conditional love on a lack of attention on your part ... wow excuse me for the foot,
the one i put in the door when you begged for my explanation and my honesty,
putting out the foot has been the biggest aid in our demise, I know how bad i hurt you,
that's the thing about a fleshy soul,
we tell our stories through our eyes.
so worried of what others think of me that I can't focus on
That's what's important to you isn't it? saving face i wanted to yell, but preserved for another time, when yelling could raise the stakes far past what I could gamble.
when we sat to write with a pen in hand,
a private affair began.
I' was afraid,
afraid that this would happen,
fate would force a baby shower that would give birth to the haunting of my heart, my secrets befallen.
As the doctor proceeds to clip the umbilical from my median,
seperating the blood i've shed with the body that is supposed
to house vital fluid but  nowholds senseless emotions.
l a gallery of clips and photos like a drawn out trailer that gave away all the parts you pay for,
  no way to express myself, choosing introversion over conversation... what a bore.
I was afraid this would happen because I know my death is timely,
gambling in these neck of the woods could cost you your family, primely... of course,
some of your loved ones may understand, either way
the other literature sorcerest's don't resist to spill the main course, guess what it's YOU.
This secret could tear me apart and feed me to the sharks,
parallel to satan, its only objective is destruction, insisting i like the dark,
a spell cast upon me of course I hate the dark, this secret can't get out or my friendly facade will melt like a witch dead in a pool of salty raindrops,
slowly burning the witch, as water was foreign,
life without literature is surely foreign to me,
my partner will be sorry if he makes me leave her
tantums, panic attacks and more take her away and a blur will ride her vision and taunt her in her maturity as the blur grows stronger
she will have amnesia
and once my partner finds out that she was feeding us, not aiding in our demise, reconstruction is to come.
like a newborn, failure to trhive, the difference between you two ? I need one to survive
My mind no longer would focus on anything else ..
this affair started between a muse and myself
He understood things without having to say a word
To talk to him all i needed was a pen and a journal.
all faithfulness adjurned.
It was a poetic journey as we entered another element,
a renewal of spirit and soul,
My partner and i would have to call it quits.
A "no trespassing" sign was posted and the door shut
Locked with no key, just us alone
no one to bother me.
It is in this affair that he has given me purpose
on my previous relationship i have closed the curtain
to have an affair is different than to cheat
poetry is the mistress
and has him beat <3

I live in a space between hard and harder.
Harder Shaped my life under shapers of elastic.
Elasticaly snapped back in and out .Boomerang!
Boomeranged after i swung perspectively and precisely
Precisely bounced in my face like attempt never occured.
ReOccurring in my situation i tend to fall back.
back and lost in my own sauce .
Sauce spilled in a carpet room ..where to start.
Start from a different angel or stick to my script.
Scripted in a manaul of life's virtual reality
Reality is fading now falling apart
Apart cant be defined.
Defined as real or fake become the dark truth.
Truth told to many and lied to alot .
Alotted time to make sense of none but un told truth amended into what is real.
Real set back time if not percieved correctly.
Correct settings is what i needed to find,
finding out assuming reality is what set me correctly back.

Don’t you know I love you so much. I don't know who I am or what to do without you. I need you like a fish needs water or a horse needs the wide open fields.
How could you not love me anymore? You said you'd love me forever? Did you lie? Are you going to love someone else as you've loved me? A person who is not me? I feel like I want to die but don't know how to get there. Is this what you wanted? Are you proud of yourself? How could you not let me in? How could you talk about this with your entire family and not me? What do they know? That I don't? Is my love for you not enough to keep you?
Was forever a lie? Am I not enough? Who am I? Who are you? We're all those years worthless? How can you not love me?
Was begging you/screaming at you to love me not humiliating enough? I never thought I would beg someone let alone my person to love me, to want me, to need me, to be with me, to laugh with me, to run into forever with me.

How could you? How could you leave me behind, did you think everything was going to be fine? Do you care? Do you care that I'm dying, wasting away to nothing, like feathers in the wind, like dust in the sun.

What will you do when I am gone? Thinking your way into oblivion. Repeatedly saying you don't know if love, the innate feelings are there. What does that mean? In a blip in a flash everything has vanished. I just want you to love me, is that too much to ask? How tragic this question that is circling round and round in my brain. I feel like I'm going to fall through space and time into a black hole. But this would be less crushing then what you are doing to me
I want to scream until my lungs bleed until my eyes melt until I am crawling out of my skin. I didn't know pain could feel like this, I didn't know emotions could be this way, I didn't know you could do this to me. No one could besides you.
Are you enjoying this? Are you gallivanting along with your family, are you proud of yourself? Our lives, my life is ruined, in shambles, in tatters. Will you hold this up as a triumph and show those in the crowd.

Will you move on as if nothing happened, unchanged, stoic, ever the logical one, cold, unfeeling, unmoving...while I pound my fists until blood runs down you like stone.
But one day I will die and so will you. You are the only one for me, so I hope that day comes soon

Did I look away and you turned into one of your machines? Do you love machines more than you loved me? Did you love me at all?
Will you make a life with someone else? Tell her all the things we held dear? Will you hold her close, love her more the you loved me? Will you have a family? Build a life? Make all the memories I thought were mine, were ours, were us.

Do you hold your family above me? I didn’t realize we were competing? Was I always second best? Was I always behind? Did I use up all the alotted tick marks? Did my time run out? Were you always looking at the clock and I didn’t know we were racing?

Did you view me as you viewed your swimming career? Up and down and up and down, breath hold, hold it all in, explosion? Completion? A win?

I didn’t know we were on a timeline, were we always racing towards something? Were we not enjoying our lives, our time, our love? Were you not enjoying the journey with me? Were you not in the moment, did you not enjoy just being, just existing, just loving. Just loving me, loving us, loving each other.

Am I in a stagnant state now? Waiting for you to decide to love me, to come back to me, to be with me? Am I a robot that you will turn on if you decide to come back? Or a piece of scrap metal on the factory floor? What do you mean you don’t know how you’ll feel in a couple months? Am I waiting for your love if it ever existed at all. How could you not want me, how could you not pick me? I thought we were stronger than this? I thought we had everything? I thought we had forever. But I guess we had nothing at all

How pathetic am I? How idiotic? How stupid! Waiting like an animal, like a ****** who wants its next fix? Next high? Waiting for your voice, for your call, just to make it through the day, the minute the second. Do they call it chasing the dragon? Chasing chasing chasing … the dragon, until it, until you, turn around and burn me alive? If you turn around at all.
But it’s worse if you don’t turn, if you don’t turn I’ll be left in the dark, alone, in the cold, just to fall, fall, fall into the abyss
I need to be burned, I need to be burned away, burned away to nothing.
Which is how you got rid of me, you got rid of me like it was nothing, we were nothing, I was nothing

I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to yell, I want you to come back, come back, come back, come back to me! I want to hold you, I want to dig myself inside of you, I want you to never let me go. How could you leave me? How could you turn away? Am I nothing? Who am I? Who are you? Who are we?

Who was I? Who were you? What were we?
Just a childhood memory?

Were we ever us?
I thought we had eternity

I Love You
Did you love me too?