Night grows as summer begins to fade

Say you are the light
But that’s not me
Instead I am the vast infinity of night
The darkness that envelops you from sight that makes it easier to sing at the top of your lungs
While driving somewhere you don’t want to be
The darkness that inspires you to car dance because for a few minutes you are free and alone enough to be yourself
Hiding you from sight of judgment
The night that stretches out its hand and holds you safe in its arms
And in the night we see worlds and stars that promise new worlds
New possibilities
New chances for things to work out
To be different
Nothing against the light but we gave up on each other a long time ago and summer
Much as I love your heat, your light and I broke up a long time ago
We keep in touch like friends from high school
Waving high as we pass by on Facebook
But me, I am at home in the night sky
And the cool dark of infinity
And the soft welcome light of the moon
I know it shines because the sun reflects off her surface but though she hides her face from us
She still chooses to share
And maybe that’s because she knows
The light obscures
Shows us this infinite blue
But night and darkness show the truth
I’ll take a truth over a warm spoken lie
And day of the weak
I’m so happy we get more of you now.

Closets aren’t only for sexuality

If you are in pain
If you are hurting
You have within you the ability to make a choice
To break free and stand apart
To choose those who support your dreams
Who see your desires as beautiful
It is the hardest thing in the world to choose to be open, to choose to be free
This is the choice that defines our character
There are all kinds of secrets
Of things we hide from others, from ourselves
Assess the situation and decide, for your sanity, for your happiness, for your safety
Decide to step free from social constraints
Decide to be free

Drinks tonight?

The frenetic shift as humanity gears up for one last throw of the dice. One last prayer to the gods of hedonistic delight. Otherwise known as Friday night happy hour.

The work week done and the salaryman, soft and pallid beneath his suit, drinks from Lethe’s waters in the form of cheap vodka dressed up in its father’s clothes. Martini glasses, olives and onions making that Stolichnaya beautiful to weary eternally hopeful eyes.

A thrum fills the air with people throwing out energy, a little too loud, a little too free. Crutch in one hand and a all too brittle smile in the other. Tonight’s the night to have fun or lay weeping in the gutter. Caution fluttering in the wind.

Bound for pleasure, bound to forget, shackled into lives we take this escape deeper into the grave. So happy to be let loose that we slip the cuffs back on in the morning. The crushing weight of a society that neither knows nor cares. Held together by people dreaming in a future that’s long dead.