People always wanted you to be yourself,
except when you did, well
they didn’t like it all that much.
Being Yourself
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Tag Archives: night
Broken Hearts
One day
When ready
I’ll tell you a story.
A story of a boy
Who never stopped running.
I’m just not ready
To break your heart.
My very American illusion of happiness
Nothing feels good tonight.
Nothing sits well.
Nothing but myself and beer
to drown away my very American illusion
of happiness—my dear, I’m not sorry.
Please understand.
Our Gestation Period
When I found her like
a set of lost keys,
it was a mystery even to her
where she’d been hiding
or who left her there—but
I knew that look, as I’d worn once—
and it wasn’t me anymore.
So I let her sleep.
And I let her eat.
Then after her strength regained,
I walked her to the wood,
and watched her twirl with the wind—
of all that remained,
and all she’d forgotten—
like a dizzy spell I’d soon be too.
Huckleberry Heels
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
Walking in the desert of night
For once in this hell of a lifetime
I’m not calling anyone out—
Walking in the desert of night stars
With my own well being
I no longer glance behind—
Finally I realize there is nothing left behind
Nothing that isn’t worth looking forward to—
My soul is clean, my eyes are clear
I no longer cry for those I cannot save—
Saving myself, one step at a time.
These Veil Thin Times
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
8:30 in New Jersey
The evening air is still—
Black ice it lies in waiting—
Walking with the cold
I watch asphalt exhaling.
If winter had a home—
Or frost a day to rest—
It be within this heart,
It be within this breath.
A story
There’s always a story to tell.
Always,
A story…
To tell—
Our eyes told stories
I’ll always remember that day
And keep it as a reminder—
That day in which you looked my way
And I didn’t have a clue who you were
And you didn’t have a clue who I was
That day in which our eyes told stories—
As to what is most important.
So if and when we lose our way, I know
Together we’ll find ourselves again—
Where eyes can say what words cannot express—
And stories, we, can only tell together.
