Slept too long, woke too early

I say I’m a thing of endings but really I cling to that past like drowning
Like desire
I can’t seem to find an end
Maybe I’m looking to hard
Maybe I’ve never been a catalyst for an end
Others have been breaking and changing me
Mostly by their absence for so long
That when I try to end
Instead I see all the beautiful pieces of bow
And despair
I know theres a beginning
But I’m so tired
I wish I could rest

Hold your arm in mine lest I fall

I find myself happy
Though no delirious thing
No cracked grin
Manic and fading
No simple contentment
Though perhaps contentment has been so far away that I wouldn’t recognize it
I find joy in the simpleness of being
The hush of night
The sounds of the heater
The far to silent room
Because the truth is that my happy has a hole in it
And it’s only that space of lack
Which informs the rest

Dance of was and might have been

Post solstice blues
The reassertion of normal
Where people don’t even give lip service to good and just
Promises to others forgotten
As needs long sated but evergrasping
Promise fulfillment
If only for a few hours

Trauma breaks us in ways we can’t describe

I’ve crawled out of a deep well of blank
Blank walls and blank stares
Just an endless nothing
Palisades I built looking to hide from all the pain I couldn’t face
And even those walls weren’t enough
I locked my self down the deepest well
In the darkest parts of my mind
I thought it would be easier to just not feel for awhile

I guess when you’re gushing hearts blood and you’re so completely lost in a world that can’t understand what you are feeling
You don’t make the best decisions

That pain just built behind those walls
That tsunami waiting to destroy me
So I hid
Of course I hid
Even deeper
So deep that feeling even pain was blunted

But it couldn’t last
I couldn’t last
Eventually, I couldn’t feel anything
So I threw open the doors
Climbed out of that well filled with pain cored through the very center of my being

And I immediately drowned
That pain crushed me
Beat me against the battlements
Slammed me against the walls
Those soundless screams which wracked my body
Which, even now whisper, broke from my throat

That was the journey which brings me to mild depression and poems which feel empty
Without that cut down mewling pain

It only took ten years.

Maybe in another ten, I’ll be able to write that same joy I feel, on occasional morning
Like I wrote in blood
In the beginning

Maybe not

Renewal means something dies

Soft light makes soft sounds
Chill on the silence
Minutes pass
Unaware
Too tired to move
Too much effort in slow blinking
One last day in the sun
Before one leg falls
Starting that inevitable trip
Out of a loving embrace
And into the heat of an uncaring sun

Measured on the dark expanse

We exist on the shores of love
Waiting to drink deeply
Sometimes wandering away
Lost and without purpose
Lonely in the way that only those who have truly known love can be lonely
Lost without hope
Having first known its touch

We build homes
Lives
Drinking slight or deep
Always knowing that someday
Whatever we do
However we try
Love will leave
We will be alone
That silence which weighs so heavy
Sometimes it’s too much
And we pass
Sometimes we heal from its lack
But always on the shore
Waiting
Hoping
Looking past the cold horizon
Footsteps that bring you home

When death holds no mystery…

Water slams down headless the end
Hitting the unyielding ground it bounces
The mist rises
Riding through valleys at breakneck speeds
Vision clouded
Calm dropping like a warm cloak
That settled feeling
From long ago
One wrong choice from death
Alive unlike long since
A goal in mind
A destination set
And come hells or fury
Arrival is gaurenteed
No thin desire for adrenaline
Just the calm mantle of chaos
Of disaster
And the sure steps one takes
When every move is familiar

Lies told by the comfortable

I’m old enough to have been warmed by the flames
Watched as the heart and soul of a country burned
Watched as the flames reached higher
As the middle class blamed those with less
Blamed those without
While the Rich paid themselves for existing
Removed protections and taxes
Things that made economic mobility possible
Made it possible to work less than forever
Buy a house
Be out of debt
Not be drawn further and further into
No way out
The last flames are burning
Soon there will be nothing left
What choices will we make
The generation of my parents
Are turning on anyone who isn’t them
My generation is either complicit or stand by
Some rage in the streets
But the generations that follow
Need to rise and dismantle this
That means the senate and the house
Local government legislature
We need to make every effort
But I fear that we are falling
And nothing is left but to burn