Churn and boil

They say that no one truly loves you until they see every dark shadow inside of you and still chooses to stay

But what if those shadows are not caused by murk and pain but instead cast by bright lights shining into deep holes. What if when you gaze in into the shadows and the shades feel love they burst forth in incandescence burning away their shrouds and the darkness promised from lips bound to truthfulness instead drip light

Do you feel betrayed by their love and how dare they show this deep painful darkness which is so easy to love but then switch and become joy and light. In foolishness and hopeful acts they keep moving forward, they don’t see the change so drunk on this absence of pain. They keep going and not knowing break what they sought to forge.

And Dwindling is requested, affronted by this light and their words but though some time has passed they never forgot their oath to say what is in their heart and they cannot help that what is there is love. But they do love and they do care and they say, quietly, ok. We’ll talk only about the weather and the small things with nary a serious discussion about anything. And the silence reigns and their lights turn to blood but they remember the light and they break and break and break

Until you can stand it no longer and a short sharp slap across their face wakes them from their ocean of blood and they apologize and turn their daggers inward to spare you their pain because they remember that light they felt in the failing embrace of winter

But still, they remember their oath to always speak what was in their heart and their second oath, to always be silent in those places where they once were free

And torn apart by their own words, by the words that have always been the catalyst for destruction. No one really wants the truth, their truth. Not forever. No one expects them to remember the oaths they spoke in exactness. The things that they follow. Maybe it’s not human to do so.

Maybe they should have or should now speak directly, but it is forbidden and until it’s rescinded
Silence
And these words slipped past with bare context
Are all they have
We are broken until we are whole. Darkness until we are light
And the turning, we never expect
But the fall
The fall we know all too well

She rips me up

She rips me up
Just a text out of the blue
And she puts my whole world on tilt
Because she could have me or break me with a word
My could have been who never was
Who I fell so hard for
I left a cartoon like impression on the desert floor
A man shaped hole
I fell like a shooting star
And burrowed to earth
Flame kept alive in flickers beneath the surface
I gave up
Because I had to
Because sanity demanded it
But 3 words in a text
And no not those three words
And I’m right back at the beginning
She has me
But it fades
Quicker
And
Quicker
That’s almost harder than without
Almost harder than with
What could isn’t
What might be
Depends on her
And it won’t happen

Nightmares are also dreams: Update

I’m having a hard time getting the next chapter together. But it will be out by next Monday, June 18th.

Timing

I’ve been Bereft of words
Straddling fences like sitting on an elephant
Stretched thin by words
Skin taught and quivering
Near breaking

Words spill from me in other circumstance
But facing the page
Blank
Like a white room
Empty of anything but echos

What purpose words when
They are just verse on a page
Can’t be trusted for past transgressions
By people I’m not

Nothing to prove
I’m all out
But they say that too
And sit leering behind false faces
Monsters without honor

No way to prove I’m not them
So I wait
And talk
Knowing all the time
That trust has been broken by so many other people

I’m always too late
By hours
By months
By years

Too late

Song of the Day

A bit late but I think this is appropriate. I’m sad and happy and desirous and needful. Caring and wanting. The melody is almost a lullaby and the lyrics speak of the sweet sadness.

 

Ramblings of a writer

I woke as Anthony and went to sleep as Pelgris. And though seemingly innocuous, I can’t help but think I lost in the process.

Some know my First name because it’s on my short story collection on Amazon. Some because I’ve shared it privately.

Pelgris is a public persona and very much a part of me. But it’s not everything. I hold pieces of myself back that only people who have private contact with me will see. Maybe that’s disingenuous, but I hope not.

But I woke with a hello Anthony in my inbox and went to sleep with a goodnight Pelgris. And it felt like a goodbye.

I’m probably overreacting. But emotions care little for rationality.

In a way, I dislike that my personal life is published. But this is my process and I can’t let something go until it diffuses out.

I hope they see it as I intend it. I am not sharing my feelings directly because my obsession with words should not cause you to rethink how you feel or interact with me.

And frankly, this is what I am. I write. Sometimes poetry, sometimes not, but I write. And to confine myself to public experience is to quash the internal sense that connects us.

Sounds like a excuse for incorrect behavior. I guess I can only say that I try very hard to disguise the who’s from the general public and only those in it will know from context.

And we can always talk, privately.

This went on longer than I thought. The first part is the important bit, the emotional bit. The rest is process. Anthony things rather than than Pelgris things.

Pollen laden bees dot the ground

Fell asleep tired and woke up to the buzz
You know it’s coming
It always was
Delicious delusion makes way for real
Sweet summer thoughts have no place in a winter heart
Honor like lead weights drowning
Unshed tears and accelerated heartbeat
Sadness of the lack
Standing tall
Bent like a reed inside
The minds a contortionist
Wrapping itself around its own needs and desire
Calling them real
Before they burst in cut glass shatter
Pieces embedded deep in open wounds
Made and remade
Lost in dreams of might have been

Starting to spin

Sometimes I want to do nothing but monopolize someone’s time. I don’t have anything to say really or event to go to or anything. I just want all of them, as much as I can handle and then a little bit more.

That makes me feel like a burden. Like, what the fuck? Where do I get off taking up all their time? They have a life, they have things to do. Moreover they probably don’t feel the same, but I won’t say anything. Because I feel like I don’t deserve it. And I’m a little afraid that they will shut me down.
Even more that they won’t but it’ll just be the once and I can’t stomach just one time when I feel like this.

I don’t know. I’d like to blame it on my 3 hours of sleep but I know that just sharpens the edges. It doesn’t make me feel anything that I wouldn’t normally feel.

Sparkles on the slippery slope

I’m starting to feel hopeful again.
Which means at some point I’ll stick my hand in the fire
Because that’s what I do
I leap before I know there is solid ground
Maybe that makes me brave
Maybe foolish
Probably both

But right now I have hope
No direction but hope
No horizon but hope
No safety but hope

Even though I know better
Even though I know how treacherous hope is
I feel myself light with it
I’m sure any day now
I’ll crash back to earth

What can I say?
I’m a fiend for cracking my chest open
And daring wonderful people to take a bite
A bit morbid
But hey, if you can match my darkness
We might have a chance