Drifting through mists

I think I’ve gotten to the point where I’m just used to the chaos that my life seems to devolve into.
That or I’m numb or insulated.

My highs are so full of promise and hope.
My lows so full of pain and despair.
But I ride the waves
Sometimes drowning, yes
When I have invested myself in a future that isn’t going to happen
Sometimes delirious with joy
When I have invested myself in a future that isn’t going to happen
But mostly, they are just days passing
Believe me
I want that more of the horizon
Reaching out has burned me though
So I wait
Thinking in my cave
Watching the sky in hope of rain

Silent

Every day
I’m just so tired
Falling asleep in my chair
My mind drifts to the past
To all that I had in brief months of happy
I can’t go to far
There is a chasm of unfathomable darkness
But back a few years
Each joy
Each I love you
Each fail
This accumulation
I’m so tired
Most days I have nothing left
How am I going to find you
When all I can do without tears is sleep
Losing her didn’t break me
Life after recovery from her loss
Did

Valentine’s Day 31

My loves sit at the dining room table talking in low tones and dipping chocolate chip cookies in milk. Tara giggles and loses half her cookie to the glass. Soaked through it breaks. She uses a dry one to fetch the pieces out. Sara brushes a strand of purple hair from Tara’s eyes, tucking it behind her ear. I finish putting the dishes in the washer and start to clean the counter. Making work for myself to allow Sara to work her magic.

After a few minutes the cookies are gone, wife and lover are lounging content as cats, and the dishwasher chugs away.

“My love.” I say, “Let’s get ready for bed. You two can use the shower first.”

Sara looks knowingly at me. Her wise grey eyes carrying a sad smile. She holds her hand out to Tara, who grips her and bounces up out of the chair.

My girls disappear into the bedroom and moments later I hear the shower turn on.

I pad over to the bedroom. Snagging the remote to the house sound system, I put on the soft sounds of summer rain. The hiss and patter fills the room displacing the empty silence.

I remove the sheets and change them for a fresh set. Soft silk replaced with warm cotton.

I retrieve Mr. Fox from Tara’s side of the bed and position the bear to be watching and waiting when the girls emerge.

The girls emerge from the shower in a billow of steam and seeing Mr. Fox, Tara snatches him up and spins around with him in her arms.

Sara smiles, tired eyes lighting with soft joy, for a moment the missteps of the night forgotten.

I can’t see this anymore. Maybe that makes me weak but I can’t take credit for joy when I’ve brought us so close to disaster. I walk into the washroom and start the shower. I carefully peel off the bandage covering my dick and see the blood spots.
This is going to suck. I lather up and gently wash all over. I take extra gentle care of my wounds. This sidelines me from many of our daily routines. My mistakes compound and pay dividends I would have preferred were less.

Sluicing down the suds, I stand for a minute in the pounding streams. I let the jets massage away some of the tension and the air grows thick and hot.
Unable to take more, I step out. The shower jets shutting down ten seconds after no bodies are sensed in the stall. I throw on my robe and stand at the mirror. I force myself to take five deep breathes, holding each for three seconds before I floss and brush my teeth. I reapply a bandage on my cock and pull on underwear to keep it from brushing against anything in its raw state.

I walk into the bedroom and the air is chilly compared to the stifling heat of the bathroom. Tara is curled up against Sara. Already asleep. Sara is in the middle of the bed and I slip in behind her.

Soft moonlight filters through the gauze curtains. The sounds of rain pours through the speakers. The fresh scent of clean hair fills my nostrils. The heat of Sara as little spoon warms me and on any other night, I’d slip deeply into dreams.

But tonight, I fear sleep will be a long time coming.

Grief never fades

Splay me open
Crack my chest
There’s little enough left
A heart in tatters
Each new day cut slivers
Stuck in throat
Flowed out with tears come unbidden
Weaving a false tale of hopes realization
Fantasy without root
Just another sliver
An ache that never ends
Take what blood remains
Chest hollowed out
Filled with burnt ash
An endless well

Not all dreams rise(audio)

Half cast shadows shift in the broken light
Stop motion shades flit from open doorway to open doorway
Huge rusted hinges showing where vault doors once hung
Fear hangs like grease in the soft twilight air
The man shaped thing strides through his city
Draped in the cloth of forgotten night
Wet air bubbles and shifts like touching a hot skillet
The doors are open
The cane by his side bends and shifts
Once a staff, once a blade
He thirsts
But his city lays barren
Patches of green
turned brown and wilted
dot the hanging gardens
A testament to what was and what may be
In this forgotten city of memory

Toasted and candied

The weight of those hearts
Held so close
slow trip, trip trip in 4/4 time
resound with clot and baited tongue
honey too thick to taste sweet
this side of heaven
may as well be this side of hell
for all the good that love brings
these frigid highs
crystalline and sharp
plunge deep through the earth’s crust
till molten oblivion gives way to peace

No peace

Not quite a brush with death, but a reminder of this bodies expiration date.  This makes me wonder if I have the time to wait for you.  The time to demonstrate my steadfast strength. Whither to watch, to wait or begin the search anew. Or stop looking and thereby stop the cycle of failure and disappointment. Or look anew in different pools. My problem is I actually believe all this romantic nonsense that I write.  I actually act like this prize fool.  I can’t even point to inexperience to explain it.  If anything, what I have is too much experience. I have absolutely no hope. I have a better chance of getting struck by lightning. But I put myself through the thresher again and again hoping for a different outcome and knowing it’s not coming. How can you love a monster and if you fail to see the monster, how can you love the man? How did anyone? I saw myself through their eyes and for a time I was happy.  For a time, I was better.

I miss you.  But I’m no longer depressed every day, no longer afraid to look at my past. I don’t know how to BE without that pain.  I don’t know what I am without you.  You chose me and I never asked why. Now I’m the one trying to choose and I keep failing, keep getting it wrong. You always saw clearer than me.  I don’t compare them to you.  Maybe I’m too broken now to be loved as I remember it.  Maybe…