Tell me his name
And I’ll give him your word
Though to an illusion
I can not confirm—
Within him lies many,
Within you lies more—
His name’s but of flesh and bone.
So tell me your name
And I’ll give you his word
Be it not an illusion,
Something I can confirm.
People always wanted you to be yourself,
except when you did, well
they didn’t like it all that much.
I’ll tell you a story.
A story of a boy
Who never stopped running.
I’m just not ready
To break your heart.
What I’ve learned over time
Through my own self sacrifice
Is simple, and it’s this:
Admitting when to say no
is just as important as
knowing when to say yes.
I don’t need reassurance
to know I’m awesome—
Denial’s just too much fun
and if I actually had the drive
I’d be off a cliff by now—
inspiring admiration, apprehension, or fear.
It always hurt to admit, but what doesn’t?
Silence falls like snowflakes
Covering the field
Where birds like statues watch
My huckleberry heels
With frost left underfoot
The hallow ground revealed
Where doe tread light as feather
And sun spill bleeds me home
What I’ll never have answers for
Happened in the split of a second
And broke me for a lifetime in two
I can pick up the pieces sometimes
Mostly I have the strength, except
These other sometimes when
It all comes pouring out, when words
Make sense just enough to suffer again
A little less each time, though time
Time is often wearing me veil thin—
Like a dusting of snow covers ice—
I’m that unsuspecting victim
Trudging through a never ending dreamscape
Sidestepping, cautious through life
There’s always a story to tell.
At some point you just let go,
and that need to be understood
just drifts by the wayside.
Like a dog is a dog, a cat is a cat—
with or without the mustard.