Slow drip of silence fades a beating heart

Each minute leads to another
And another
And another
And I can’t tell if that’s good or bad
Or if it matters
Since I keep showing up
And wondering if doing so is worth it

There used to be reasons
And people
Touches and promises
Words that seemed like they meant something

Used to think that I understood
Used to move with purpose
When my belief was that tomorrow wouldn’t likely come
Because when tomorrow is uncertain
Only now matters

But I’m past those red brick buildings
Which reeked of copper and still water
Past the places where beginnings end

Now uncharted
Three acts beyond final curtain
Just keep dancing
Wondering if the roads traveled
Have so imprinted

Become just one more scenic road
Never leading its way home

The wind shifts, stark storm breaks

Wind gives way to whispers
Silent voices dripping soft words
Rush of blood from pounding heart
Soft details
Bend and flake
Desperate reality
Senses fill
Can’t quite make the disconnect
Between action and consequence
Peeled tongue
Skinned knuckles
Anything to feel
Oppressive weight of empty

Slipped away
Stagnate pain shifting
Her smile wipes it away
But in remembrance
In truth
The falseness of this hope
Bleeds out faster than blood

And still
I know
It was real

There are shadows in the world and I am one of them

Only in the places between do I feel comfortable
Not quite city
Not quite wilderness
Not yet night
Not yet dawn
Stuck in a moment of transition
Re forming
Again and again
Putting the pieces back together in new configurations
Hoping each time
To find myself
In that easy camaraderie
That fierce ease
That kiss of proclamation
Not just that you are mine but that I am yours
Dash and damn consequences or barriers
To choose
To step fully into light or darkness
But here I am
On the periphery
Not by my choice
By my hand

What was is lost, what will be is unknown

We were all unbroken once
All dancing our way through lives without fear

Maybe I’ll break enough to be powder
And I’ll know what it is to be again unbroken
Different pieces suffused into a whole
Strong again

No longer sifting bloody hands through broken glass
Trying to get enough pieces to put back together
But whole
As this new thing

No longer trying to get back to a was
Seeing what is
And accepting a way forward
As this
My new self

Long sharp note, played slowly underpinned by minor key resonance

Feeling tired
Too tired to wake up
Back hurts from work out
Stomach empty and cramping
Back into a groove of hurting to be normal
This normal
My normal
Loving all my people
Fumbling to help
Sitting alone
Hoping to hear from people you’ve reached out to
Never really expecting an answer
But stopping myself from wandering down that razor blade road
Just wanting more sleep
Just wanting to get going
Get the day of work over with so that I can get on living
Hoping when I get home that someone will be waiting
Knowing they won’t be
Can’t be
Physically gone or physically distant
Doesn’t matter
Same result
Talking on messenger
Only connection from day to day
Broken lines of communication
Needing to hear from you
Knowing it won’t happen
This is my normal
Walking tall
Slight smile on lips
Meeting eyes
But not intruding
Going home alone
Calm strength hiding the churn of yearning
But it’s normal
My normal
Ready to be broken again

I cannot truly show you my pain, without first dying

If I knew how to talk about what I want maybe I’d be in a different place
If I knew what I was willing to sacrifice for what I want
Maybe I’d be there
I am sometimes afraid that, despite jumping off the cliff so many times, this last time is the one that I should have done
Safety and you
But leaving everything behind, trapped in the lense of my own making
I can only blame myself
Because who else can bare the burden
Stripped raw
Crying for no reason
I wonder at the wounds I’ve inflicted
Following my heart so often
Except, it seems, when it matters 

When is a decision not and instead a cell, open door afraid to walk through

Mind tendrils reaching out
Never quite touching the ones I’ve loved
Words caught in throat
Thinking not to impose
Not to make known
Thoughts always seeking
Still there?
Still living
Never cared for the holidays
Feeling hypocritical asking how you spent it
As if those minutes of minutia excuse the month or more of silence
Time stretches
Stories left untold
Wishing even the scritch of the pen would come
When sound catches throat
But even there
The hesitation grows

Wanting to say
I love you
Not that it matters
Stretching out just to say hi
But failing
Happy Thanksgiving?
Cast instead
Voice to the ether
That it be just as lost as I