Jumbled circumference

It was always going to be this
This downward slope
Packed away
Put away
Show the rose
Thorns pricked bloody
Smell enticing
Too cloying
Choke on actions
Drown in sweet words
Cut off
Bound by a promise
Tongue cut out
Mumbling half heard
Pneumatic hammer
Driving out all thought
No safety in fear
No safety
Lake bubbles seathe
Heat vents below the surface

Nightmares are also dreams: A Pel and Sara story: Part 3

The day ticks away. Scanning documents, looking for connections, waiting for the phone to ring. I was never happy with the waiting. It’s always easier when you aren’t personally invested in the outcome. I know that if I allow it, this will eat away at me. Poison me. I can’t allow myself to descend into the rush of taking. Making no mistake, monstrous as it is, the feeling of self righteous fury made manifest and acted upon, safeguarding my people and my girls, is addictive.

That rush as you pound after your prey, making the target, and standing over this person. The sound of the gun, the silence as their body bleeds out. The light fading. The flight to safety. All floated on a endorphin and adrenalin high.

It’s not until after that you start crashing. Sometimes you are in first stage adrenal failure. Your body gives so much for those moments. And the memories…the chase comes in fragments, the planning sticks with you. But it’s those last minutes that haunt. You run through the catalog of the targets misdeeds, hoping to talk yourself into calm. Hoping that what you did was justified. Sometimes it is. Sometimes, you just can’t convince yourself. And those are the sleepless nights. Holding your girls. Trying to keep yourself from flying apart.

This time there is none of that ambiguity. But their faces will still haunt me. Still look back, glassy eyed, pleading for one more second of life. And I will smile, grim and frightening. Dark fire dancing.

Maybe that makes me a monster.
So be it.

It was simpler then

I called this clarity
I called it sanity
It’s a barren empty
A field of endless days

Longing for more
Am I longing to feel

Is this my addiction
To pain
To joy
Or is this what I felt

Without the hope
Of a tomorrow
And now I’m self aware enough
To realize it

Some days other people are an agony
Fidget to get free
But even that’s better than sitting alone
There’s no freedom

My choices have led me here
To this barren earth
This windswept empty
Bereft of everything
Even fear

What’s left when even fear is gone

Joy is a thing of blood and bone
My heart is full of dust and memories
What fool would want a piece of pain
Drink my tears and end with sand

On this shattered plain
Beneath this bowl of sky

Thinking about endings and beginnings

I understand how people feel when they say they’d rather be alone.
I understand how they feel when they say they don’t want a relationship.
I understand when they want an uncomplicated life.

It’s easier to be alone than to bend for another.
It’s easier to act in the silence of your own thoughts than to think about how your actions impact others.
It’s easier to be, alone.

The closest approximation is to say that I feel sane. Clear. And I see how this feeling can be construed as better. Because what we tend to remember is the end of the relationship. We remember the pain and uncertainty. We remember that feeling that nothing is right nor will it ever be. We feel that torture and we say, “Never again.”

I remember.
I remember feeling free.
Feeling like each day had greater meaning because I was building something. Something for us.
Feeling like I was growing as a person to fit into this dream.
I remember and I know it’s possible.
The most painful part is that I know it can work and not end in flames and agony.
I have proof.
It took an outside hand to take all.

So, while I enjoy this alone getting to know myself as myself, I know I can’t be like those who are eternally single. I know I’ll take the chance again.
Because, when it works, it is the most beautiful thing I can build. And I’m a better man for it.

Journey’s end

Empty from caring
Stumbling forward so fast it feels like walking
Day by day
Distance grows from the cliff edge
No fear of falling
Jaw ache from clenching
No tongue holding
Stress fractures manifesting during sleep
Distraction and the closed doors
No windows
Just empty walls
Waiting for secret truths
Paths forward bloom
Stark in the emptiness
Bursting with life
But still
Reaching out
Trembling hand
No touches
Last chances
Blown away on the desert wind

Song of the Day: Not what you think edition

I listen to many songs that are arguably very sad and, perhaps, completely depressing. One of my favorite bands is Bella Morte (beautiful death) and they sing almost exclusively about the pain of living and death.
But this, this is the most depressing song I’ve ever heard. Because in my time I have lived and loved and lost. And while losing someone you love for any reason whether it was death, distance, divergent desires, or misconception, hurts; that isn’t the worst pain you can feel.
The worst pain you can feel is hope. Seems crazy but hear me out. Hope can be a wonderful thing. But misplaced hope is destruction. It eats its way through everything you are until you are left riddled with holes filled with pain.

So, the most depressing song, for reals: