The boy who cried gently to the wolf.

You can sense it you know,

yourself shutting down—again

with the change of scenery, again

with the change of heart.

It’s like trying to stop a freight train

running yourself empty, till

all there is is but to explode.

It’s a very empty place to be living.

It’s a very empty place to be born.

It’s a beautiful fall day, though, isn’t it?

Isn’t it beautiful, this

in depth exhibition of yourself—

without the guts, with all the answers

and nothing all that good say.

Again, another Fall. 2020

A message from that time I cut myself off from the world. (circa 2009)

What I lost in my depression

What developed over time

Who grew within my absence

Who called but couldn’t find

The person who they once knew

Who only wished to die

Where deep within my fortress

Of solitude did I

Salute them in their merit

Who tried from time to time

To free me from my burden

Which words could not describe

Though even in my heartache

I never told a lie

But took pride in them knowing

Their strength I too could find

That’s why I keep them with me

Past lovers, friends, and my

Gratitude for suffering

This awfully fragile mind

Grown with understanding

Like fruit picked from a vine

I’m grounded by their blessings

And grateful for this life

The morning

I’ve missed you

said the morning

to the man

at the top of the hill.

I’m so sorry

said the man

to the rising sun.

Don’t be sorry, be present

said the wind.

We’ve missed you, that’s all

said the trees.

And we’re glad that you are here

said the sun.

Thank you

said the man

at the top of the hill.

Now go

said the morning

there’s so much more for you to see.

So the man began

his descent into the valley

this time

with only his shadow trailing behind.

a beautiful life.

At the end of this life

if you can say

I did some things

I really, really enjoyed

and helped some people

along the way

all the while

laboring loves labyrinth

then that

I’d say

is a beautiful life.

affliction or redemption

What’ll it be

said the man

on the stand

to the reflection

looking very grim

sunken eyes

of redemption

come on come on

choose our next addiction

this time though

be aware

aware of my remission

I know I know

what fun is there in that

hell why don’t we find out

it’s either or perhaps

I’ve given you the right

that now I’m taking back

the will to fight the urge

I know that’s what I lack

so taking down the mirror

with no one staring back

the man poured the reflection

with ice into his glass

he calmly took a sip

one more than another

and when the glass was empty

to him it did not bother

just one more

thought the man

understanding his reflection

it’s up to you to choose

affliction or redemption.

Yesterdays sadness today.

The day
is cold
and rainy,

the walls
smell
of paint,

a hint
of death
lingers,

my pockets
are
running dry,

control
is
a state of mind,

right now
I’m
out of it,

I bought
flowers
to liven up the room,

they
help
some,

today is
a soggy
mess,

as for
tomorrow
we will see.

The point
is,
that we will see tomorrow.