I am too old to breathe and too old to die
So this leaves me where but between
Lost in a seethe of lie
Strike me from my bones
Break pieces
As morsel eat
Until all consumed
I may pass on
Or give me over to fires embrace
One last or is it first passion
A lover who at least knows her worth
Pick glass out of wounds long closed
Like memories pulling free
So short a life consumed in smallest
Motions
A drifter encased in a life of choices fallen to dust
Pause to inhale but is it life or just a slipping of darkness into day
Bound by our shackles forged in persuit
And struck round until freedom is as foreign as love.
poetry
Only blue or black days
I think about it daily
Several times a day
It causes pain in my throat
Tears in my eyes
I feel my heart aching
And I keep getting up
I keep going to work
I keep acting
Like I’m my normal self
If not normal itself
It’s not that I want to die
Or that oblivion is so alluring
I just don’t see the point of this anymore
And I tell myself, of course I won’t do it
It used to be that I thought, don’t set it in motion cause that’s when it will turn around.
Ever the cynic, even the end turns out wrong
But now it’s that I can’t hurt the people I love
Even if they don’t love me like I need them to
I think about it every day
But I don’t do it
I don’t know if that makes me strong
Or a fool
This is a beautiful world
I doubt it would be less so without me in it
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What falls follows
I would die a thousand deaths
If I could hold you in my arms
As I slipped away
I would live a thousand lives
If I could live them by your side
I would fight a thousand battles
If I could keep you from harm
I would watch your back a thousand thousand times
As you fought the battles I could not see
These thoughts as I lay awake dreaming
In this empty bed
In this too quiet room
Without you
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Reminders
Destructive dapple
Burned ash deep
Just a empty voice in the wilderness
Shouting my pain
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Unknowing, I strike the match
These cars stream past
Heading to somewhere
From somewhere
A story I’ll never know
Lives like bowing wheat
Stretched to distant sun
Each song reaches forth
In melody
In discordance
In minor chord
Music half heard on the wind
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Tick, tick, tick
I have nothing to give but everything that I am. Unfortunately, it never seems to be enough. Is it something I lack or was there something in you that could not be fulfilled. Or am I waiting for you to say, “I’m ready now.” And, fool that I am, I wait while you seek joy in the heart of another. Or I wait until circumstances are better. Or I wait until you realize what you need and it isn’t me. Or I wait while time drifts you away.
Take a step to me. Don’t say but or maybe. Don’t wait, times is passing, regret is for the things that you fail to face not for love. I know. It’s painful to hope. I know. I’ll try not to fail you.
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Razor thin
Give me a moment to catch my breath
I’m lost in this minute without
The air tastes of mint and menthol
I can’t tell the difference between
Moving on and moving back
I can’t decide
Can’t find a choice
When without
I’m lost in this perpetual glow of hope
Does it matter?
I was never hurt by waiting
Just pushing away
Trained to accept your word
I falter in holding on
Because you say
I’ll leave and I say stay
I suppose it was always too late
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Diary of a lodestone
I cannot break, so I’ll build
A home that’s shattered is no shelter
I find my scattered pieces on the road
And in your gaze know healing
What breaks is not mended
In facsimile of perfection
But instead
Is mended
By experience, by choice upended
Where hope instead you fended
And woke
Amidst this splendid
A voice that I’ll not leave
Unmended
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Tremulous notes
There is a world of white and black. Sides of a coin hung in opposition but between the infinite sliver of what was and what will be. In this deepening gray I dwell, a voice raised in song.
Hold me in the heat of a dawning. The sun dances fresh across my lips tasting of your heart. The thought of your flesh yielding to my fierce touch. My voice rises in song. A song of seeking, of finding its lost way to you.
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Flat rock floats the river
Every step is a step closer to the grave. Because what am I but a pointless gesture meandering through the simple silence of shadows cast.
Are goals so loose they may well be guidelines instead of definition be truly enough to get out of bed for?
Or am I just wasting for want of a leader.
No harness can I wear that is not fashioned by my hand.
I am horrible to lead as I question each choice and deed.
Take flight and burn in turn of phrase.
Always looking for the person who sees me through the smoke.
Obscured by my honest answers to the meat of the question.
Semantics but I like is not the same as love is not the same as desire is not the same as need.
We break and say what was I to say?
Don’t peddle love when other is meant.
I’ll settle counterweight against your love, a fulcrum to move the world.
Should it prove to be the brittle half truth of like, I’ll break in the turning.
See me, I’ll not settle.
I’m not settling when I choose your love.
But I’ll not take less than all that you are either.
What is worth if not worth all?
Selling pieces without regard or regardless.
I see.
But I’m as broken as any, perhaps more so, knowing yourself is no remedy.
Ignite, burn and be the pyre.
As I lay here fading, bereft of you.
Waiting on the turn of the wheel or a spoken word.
Pelgris 