The Circle

 Some only know to exist under a difficult life because it allows them to make excuses for not being able to make the right decisions to pursue their dreams because the path to making their dream a reality won't be understood by the people around them they're currently getting validation from. They're so tied to the permission of their circle they become afraid to walk alone and put value to the ridicule of their peers. The dream now becomes so scary They hide under the blanket of a difficult life which fuels attention and "feel good" pity. The fear is fake, the attention is superficial. Their circle chains them to mediocrity because they are afraid to see someone from their equivalent circumstance actually make a dream come true, simply because it reveals their own fears and excuses stopping them from pursuing their own goals so they stop anyone who wants to grow. They don't want to see it done so they hold you down. Its not viciously done in most cases. It's done with polite phrases and soothing words, and offers to divert attention. It's a subconscious act, hence why the break away seems so daunting. Your faced with an imposed perception of leaving the warmth, acceptance anf support, for a journey of hardship, failure, loss and most importantly, isolation. You've been successfully tricked your goal isn't worth it and most importantly that their validation and acceptance of you is far more valuable than bringing your dream to life and completing yourself as a self actualized human being.  

But the journey isn't lonely, as you'll be so focused on the win that your vision will keep you warm and sooth you when your days of high effort leave you winded. Your zeal and ambition will be all the company you need. You will validate yourself every day you lay one brick, then another and another towards the dream. Each brick is a piece of that dream becoming real, and one day enough bricks will be laid and your dream will exist for real. Mediocrity is a layer of dust over your eyes. The circle's ritual is to keep pouring this dust in each other's eyes, and say "there now, dream not, for we understand it is hard. Trust in our companionship in this hard world. Stay with us so we can sooth each other about our hardship. Don't go out there alone and leave us, for we love you and care about you. Let's not incur the pain of failure, let's not be alone and cold."

This warmth, attention, acceptance, and validation is attractive but it's only purpose it to sooth them. If you lay in bed at night wanting a dream, wanting better for yourself then you are not cut from the same cloth, you do not have the same blueprint. You're the eagle who's been raised as a chicken. I dare you to take one step, lay one brick and see what starts to light up in you. Feel what starts to grow from deep within. It's a calling to the destination of who you are meant to be and once you start, it will not stop. This is why some remain in agony for years if not their entire lives because they fight this inner voice telling them they can be better. This turmoil is used against them by their circle to prove why it's better to stay with them. There is no turmoil, it's simply the clashing of an oriented behavior against the path you need to take. It's a big black wall but it's as thin as burnt ash. Poke one finger through, challenge their doubt, lay that one brick and you'll see the reveal. 

When they see that you see this, they will start to lash you like you've broken a covenant. They will say things to make you feel bad and threaten to take away the warmth, acceptance, and validation. But that is all they can do. Wash the dust out your eyes, see that the path to your dream is only asking for hard work, dedication and commitment. The journey is not one of isolation and rejection, it's only what they try to make you feel. Lay that next brick and hear the volume of the calling increases. Each brick it gets louder. The days of high effort, feel more satisfying than depleting. The closer you get the warmer you feel. True validation will start to flow from inside you as you see your dream start to take shape. True validation from your own hands, your own work will replace the false and empty words you've been believing all these years. Listen to the ache in your lower spine telling you this is not where you need to be. Listen to it... quiet your mind and listen. Feel how the lines of their blueprint doesn't match yours, feel how your wings and claws spread wider, bigger and sharper than all of theirs. Your difference is not an abomination, your difference is your proof you exist somewhere else and you need to find where you truly belong. Let the calling direct what you do with your hands, let it reshape your thoughts, let it move your feet to a new direction and rhythm. Let it control you, not them. Dreams are meant to be built.

A Love Story? (open piece)

Preface 

I warn you, if you've never cried for a villain, close this page book now and put it back on the shelf. There is no riding off into the sunset.  Your sighs will quickly turn to anger. The monster is a ghost changing faces and possessing even the damsel in distress. The heart broken will lose their right to pity, and sorrow is only an ingredient in the pie of confusion you'll be licking your fingers to.  

I was taught poison as love and given a broken lens to see the world. I thought its cracks were art. She possessed me with the only way I could ever love others.  As I loved, I infected.  I drained their hearts like a vampire, but the poison wasn't about being fed. It was like a drug, the more I had, the more I wanted.  My cursed insatiability was hidden under the pursuit of true love.  As I searched, I killed, as I killed, I wanted more, and the more I felt I would never find her, again, driving my search even more, doubling, even tripling my efforts. I made Bram Stoker's stomach turn and I made the devil raise his eye  brow.

But how did I get here? Bloodied hands, my lips red and tender from kissing death into my victims and ripping their hearts our as they dreamt of me. How did false love turn me into the reincarnation of Vlad the Impaler. Yet,  now, how do I sit here, not realizing my cape of darkness had the weight of a mountain all this time? Each day as I awaken to the trail of blood and darkness in my wake, the cape gets heavier and heavier, revealing it's true nature.  I wore this cape and every time I cut someone, the cape cut me and fused into my skin.  Eventually, cuts, thousands, and the cape replaced my skin.  I became pain and pain became me.  How do I rip it off.  Can you peel your skin off?  Can you dig your fingers in and use all your strength to peel it back?  Can you ignore your pain receptors while you rip your own flesh.  In my case the pain is memories, the pain is their broken hearts screaming in my head, maddening me to eternity.  It seems pain of death is my revival.  But do I deserve it? How do I get it?  What really is the penance of someone who became friends with darkness and a bloodhound lap dog of evil. Maybe we can understand this story, and maybe it will be a story of love.  Maybe there will be a sunset to ride off into.  Maybe the good guy can still win...maybe.

Quebec

(tba)

Tin Soldier

 I found out today that I'm not a narcissist.  They called me that and I thought it was something unique and rare.  Something to be stared, examined, and discarded. Neither was I a monster, not mystical being driven by some cosmic force unleashing destructive purpose as Karma's Rottweiler, sitting at her feet waiting for her next command, to attack. But instead, I found out I was simply broken, re-wired for pain. Wired like the rest of us.  Wired by our first experience with love.  Saddening and pitiful.

I marched right up to her with my shiny, young eager self. My gears turning in a musical hum, ready to love, smiling ear to ear.  She looked at my ignorant heart ready to love infinitely like a child, and she poured her glob of darkness all over it, and rusted it shut. She fused my mouth shut so I couldn't tell anyone what was wrong with me. All I became was attracted to hollowness and gears that couldn't work to save me.  Stuck. I couldn't move my feet to walk away.  I couldn't open my mouth to say help me.  

I was nothing special anymore, just another hurt person hurting people. A self encased prison, bewitched to never give the love I want to give, or ask for what I need.  Forced to chase empty victories and reset, only to chase the exact same emptiness again and again.  I challenged Sisyphus, and even earned his awe.

How do I get this rust off? Will I ever be shiny and new? Will I ever see the love I want and go after it? For now I remain cursed and rusted.  But at least I'm aware now.  A slow awakening it seems.  No plan yet but I will see what happens.  Maybe my friendship with Sisyphus won't last and he will forget me. Maybe I get to touch my dream one day.  Maybe one day, I'll forgive myself.

Night

 When pain comes for you, it makes your heart beg for healing. You want to go back to the routine of being together so you can forget it ever happened. Your feet want you go over there so bad that your cheeks can feel the very wind grazing your face as you drove over there with windows down.  

He felt his own torture. Any shifting or movement in his apartment, he would look to his door replaying scenes of her coming over after work and letting herself in. They would smile at each other. That smile that said forever. 

But pain is there supper now, they're breakfast, their lunch and bedtime story. To sooth himself he would unlock his door at bedtime  and dream she would come over in the middle of the night.

Her bed  never felt the same,  she didn't want to be in it. Her body wanted wind and swiftness, and to feel the door handle turning to go in and be by his side.

The torture would be too much one night. She flung herself in her car and sped like a messenger trying to stop a war with letter just written. This night he also left the door open. Her eyes widened as she turned it and it bent to her will. The darkness of the 1am night. The silence as he dreamed of her coming in, not knowing she was actually there standing in his living room. He dreamt, she sat for a while. She walked slowly to his room hearing his sleep sounds get louder as she got closer. His door was slightly ajar and she pushed it, exposing her lover, her home.  

At first he thought it was a dream, feeling his bed welcome a body crawling in it and arms quickly folding him in. His eyes opened and he went through startling fear to realizing it was her in one second. They look at each other, pain still cloaking their hearts, but knowing they can't fix it tonight. They embrace and sleep. No words now, none would work. None would be enough, even when she leaves in the morning, just a stare between them knowing one word; forever.

He never closed his door again. Sometimes she came over, sometimes not. He waited and sometimes she did not. A silent quiet love now, a shadow of its former self existing in a way only they would ever understand. 

Twin Flames

 The skin of who we are stopped the spirit of who we didn't know we were inside.  We saw only flesh, ignorant of our waiting souls. We feasted but never greeted.  We met in this life wearing human stories, cloaks of a temporary design.  Some kind of toll to pay to cross this physical plain.  Our souls waited with bated breath to peel them off... and see our hidden twin flames. 

The skins were stitched too deep. We failed. Our soul's heads hang low while our earthly heads hung high, high with earthly pride, defending something only meant for a blip in time, while eternity gets cast away.  I hope at night we dream together. I hope in moments of silence when a gust of air brushes our cheek, it makes us wonder what we missed. I hope we suffer a lingering vague curiosity, the only sign remaining that we're doing it wrong.

So let us dream together for the sake of our souls. May we hold hands and dance in a cosmic space only meant for us.  For this world is not for us, this time is not for us, this life is not for us. I pray for flesh to be peeled and our souls see it was us all along.  I pray every time I bleed, it's my soul fighting its way out to scream at me to go get you. I pray I never forget you even though it will be in pain and not peace. 

Maybe one day, when we can't stand life anymore we'll find each other, speak not in flesh, but speak with our eyes, and die together.  We'll lay together with an elixir flowing through our bodies, waiting with bated breath to be freed from this prison.  We'll unite in death since we failed in life.  Maybe... one day. Maybe one day, I'll hit send and at the same time get a text, seeing we both messaged each other at the same time.

"where are you, I cant do this anymore", mine read.

"it's too much pain, where are you", hers said.

"tomorrow by the docks".

"ok" is all I replied, knowing what I need to do.  Excited and sad, I spent the evening writing letters. 

We never agreed on a time but I knew she was there waiting. I pulled in and parked next to her.  She came out and embraced each other then got back in her car.  No more words anymore, English failed us. Bottles with blue liquids waited for us and we drank them. We lean our seats back holding hands.  We watch the ocean dance then turn and gaze at each other... until we fade off. 

We're free now.

Better Lover

 

She was drowning, so I drank the sea.

 

She needed support, so I turned my feet into stone.

 

She didn't want to be a choice, so I carved her face into my heart.

 

She was never taught to be brave, so I stole Superman's cape.

 

Her world was a dark place, so I lassoed the Sun and commanded it.

 

But when I gave her a voice, she called it controlling.

 

When I stood up for her future, she called it crazy.

 

When I came to protect her, she called me evil.

I am one, she had an army.

 .

.

. 

Alcohol was the better lover.

Marsha's 100 Hearts

A bloody bag of 100 hearts, dragged to a mountain's peak and set down.   

Here they are Marsha, 100 hearts. Listen to them scream, listen to them whale.  See how they bleed.  For years you silenced me from loving you and I didn't know how to express the pain you caused me. You ripped my heart so deep I couldn't find human words to scream in my head.  My heart was so shredded I didn't know how to comfort it, how to heal it. So I went and broke a hundred hearts so I could feel their pain, pain I couldn't express to you, pain I was never allowed to utter to you, gagged and refused...rejected.  I listened to their words so I could learn how to speak them to myself.  I needed their pain to lean on because I go through this life alone, carrying the remnants of this explosion, this disaster you left.  I let you move on without me and spared you the screams, I spared you having to hear how you hurt me, how you broke me.  You left me so confused, how could you love me the way you did and walk away. You said words to me I never heard from anyone else on this planet. How could you? How dare you! You left me with nothing to give anyone else after I poured all my love into you, you just kicked over my bucket and walked away.  The hollow space did not echo back to me because it was too deep to reach my ear.  I had to break these 100 hearts to fill this hollow space so I could finally use their voice against you. Their screams are my screams. Their torment became mine.  I gathered them all to be my symphony.  Their whales took over the darkness.  Their screams put me to sleep.  Their tears washed my body.  I now have the words I need to say to you, thanks to them. But now this bag of hearts will haunt me forever because I will not have your kiss to cool and quiet them.  Their whales are now beyond my control, their screams keep me up at night and I miss the darkness. So you win again Marsha, this bag of 100 hearts spoke for me but cannot save me, a point I did not consider, turning this decades old viscous hunt into nothing more than a fool's errand.  My legacy is now a path of broken hearts, chasing a love that will never exist. The one thing I can hope for is the gods to grant me the fortune to find that kiss in someone else.  Someone who will hear my wails and screams and hug them, see my tears and wipe them away, someone who will see the monster I've become and teach me how to heal and fill that hollow space you left. If I've scorched this earth too much to survive in it then I guess I will roam this dessert alone until my days end and consider that a blessing.

Friends: Pt1

It was a great day for the pool.  If you were inside you would hear the distant laughter from old stories being told mixed in with random splashes.  The hot summer afternoon brought these friends together.  I was happy to accept Chris's invite to come up.  I haven't seen him since he got married.  5 years.  They picked me up from the airport last night after demanding I finally take time from work and remember that I have a best friend.  I needed the break.  Liz knew all about me about me and boasted all she knew on the ride home from the airport.  I don't think I laughed that hard in a long time.  

So day one hanging at the pool was climbing down the right side of the clock and we decided to come in and figure out dinner. Chatter echoed and trailed its way through the house to the guest room where I was staying.  I hopped on the bed with my towel still wrapped around me.  Liz sat on the ottoman and Chris walked in but remained standing. The banter continued until something Liz said sent Chris in some odd direction about something he was frustrated about. The he said he's gonna grab a nap, and walked away.  In a bit of a daze I turned to Liz and saw Liz halfway through lowering her head in a sigh.

Me: What was that all about, you ok?

Liz: long pause...Chris is great...

Me: …but?

Chris:  he doesn't take things head on and stand up for himself.  I been trying to figure him out.  When he brought up inviting you here i thought it would be a chance to see what you would have to say and maybe see what I can learn from your guys interacting.

Me: Chuckles ..awe man, Chris is Chris, he's been that way since I knew him in 8th grade.  Somebody's gotta light a fire under that man's ass.

Liz: laughs...

Me: K so what do you want to know?

Liz looks up at the open door then scoots over the ottoman to the side of the bed where my head was.  She leans in but still kept her face towards the door.  She starts to speak so I had to raise myself up to get closer.  My nose pointed at her right ear peaking out from under her red shoulder length curly hair.  Then it hit me, when I inhaled. I felt like I inhaled a part of her soul cuz something connected deep down inside me.  For a moment I was swept up in how her hair smelled and how skin on her neck looked. Soon her whispers we like faded echoes as my mind took pull so hard I had to to close my eyes.

Liz: …and that's crazy right!?

Me: ..yea that is crazy ( I missed everything she said)

I had to snap out of it.  This is my best friend's wife.  I came here to see my boy and make up for lost time, not fall for his wife.  I been stuck behind a computer too long.  

We decided to go out to eat that evening for dinner.  Chris was showing me the town and took the scenic route.  He did well for himself.  Great career, moved to a nice town, nice house, a wife who loves him.  I was happy for him.  I was similar in my career path but I'm too much of a workaholic to slow down.  But no matter how fast he drove the wind from outside couldn't' push out the scent of her hair in my nose.  I started to feel guilty for thinking about his wife that way. When we parked I decided I'm gonna enjoy this dinner and enjoy this visit and celebrate my best friend's success.  

I went in feeling renewed. We got seated in a nice Spanish restaurant.  Music going, light and décor to taste.  While I'm looking up, I hear a fork drop on a plate, I dart my mead to see Chris standing up saying he's going to the bathroom and I look across to catch Liz again lowering her head with a sad face being covered by her red curly hair.  She raised her head after a moment with a deliberate shake and you see the curls quickly bounce.

Liz: So, this is nice right.  I love coming here.

She's totally acting like nothing happened.

Me: Are you guys ok?

Liz, stares at me in silence, then you see a deliberate breath on her chest.  Then she says...

(To be continued)

Rocket Love

Loving incomprehensibly is a life of hell but who's journey has a destination where a depth of love exists which no human language has ever been able to describe. 

But I've seen it, I've felt it, I feel it, all the time, by myself.  She told me, she touched me, then took it away. This glimpse, something I've never been able to unsee or unfeel. I now crave and search for it, like a mad dog hooked on a scent. This rocket I made my home...and prison. I'm chained to this chair, keys dashed.  The gas pedal welded to the floor, my heart nailed on top of it, beating to the revolutions of its monstrous engine. 

This solo blast of a lifetime, has taken me to depths of connections between souls I will carry forever. But this rocket heeds not, no matter how much I scream, or cry to stop, or cry...for her, or her, or her. I go too far, too deep, too fast and I'm immediately misunderstood, and my rockets speeds on, fueled by rejection. Impervious to pause, impervious to sloth, impervious to rest.  

I can't tell anymore if this is a curse or purpose to show the world something even I haven't seen yet.  I sound like a mad man, but what does sanity look like when everyone judges me anyway.  So let this rocket speed on. Maybe one day I'll crash into a sun so big I can't go around and not make it to the other side as I try to speed through it. Maybe then, yes maybe then I can sleep and burn in it's love forever...finally.

No Headlights

 I burnt my candle at both ends using a blow torch.  

The light excited me, I grinned as it blazed.

The melting wax landed on my shoes, I danced, happy heels caring not what tomorrow brings.

The stem of wax got shorter and shorter, 

I kept thinking something else was going to happen in the end.

'I must be right...I need it to be right....right?'

The burning wick smoked away into the darkness.

I didn't see how the white candle melted clear and looked like tear drops as they fell.

Hitting my shoe and turning cold white again as I danced, no wick to bring it back to life again.

My fevered anticipation quickly dissipates when the last of the wax melts and the 2 lit ends meet and die.

Nothing...nothing more now.  

I hang my head, confused, almost upset just out of disappointment.

One heavy sigh...another.

I guess they were right.

A Carthusian Death

 I took scissors and cut my tongue out because I want you to be the last person I say "I love you" to.

I took the knife and stabbed my eyes, so your soul is the last soul I stared into.

I sharpened a pencil and stabbed my eardrums because I only wanted to remember your voice.

Mute, blind and deaf, waiting for a love I had once and will never again, but yet, I wait.

I turn my body into a prison so my dreams of you can't escape, while I wait.

I spend all day screaming your name but no one can understand the murmurs, they never did anyway.

Bloodied eyes stare at the horizon, hoping to see your silhouette break it, one day, but how will I know.

I burn to hear your voice whisper my name, but my past is my present and my future.

The only thing I can wish for is your hand on my face one day, miraculously healing me.

Restoring my eyes so I can gaze at you.

Restoring my ears to hear your voice claiming me.

Restoring my tongue so I can tell you how long I've waited....oh how long I have waited.

This dream sometimes makes me smile and laugh.

This dream sometimes seizes me in hope.

This dream sometimes chases me like a nightmare.

I rejected a world...for you.

I froze my life to give it to you, it's in my hand, take it, for it is useless to anyone else.

Crazy they call me as I reach up my hands to an empty space.  

But I see, you in my mind, reaching down, to break my vow.

Stolen...Robbed

 I spent my whole life preparing.

Preparing to be a man, a husband, a father, a provider, protector, a bringer of security and prosperity.

I take this suit of armor, dressed ceremoniously by my queen mother,  and I swear my oath to my path of life.  My father anoints my shoulders with his sword and grants it to me as mine, a splendid farewell of hope to conquer the world.

I come into this new world armed with all I was taught, armor shiny and bright, sword sharp and at the ready, Philosophy swirling in my head, covered in dreams, so fresh I could taste their birth.

Yet, I told I'm not good enough, because my love left me.

My daughters are taken away from me because I cant have success, and them too.

I'm told I cant enjoy in my worth at work, because I'm black.

And no one cares about the man in the armor, because they just want what the armor provides.

They...still don't know my name.

My philosophies are now just the ramblings of a fool. My armor, heavy and useless. My sword, given to conquer the world, now just a toy, it cuts me more than it paves a way.  Who will I protect, who will I teach, who will I raise, who will I love.  This is all I know and none of it is wanted. 

Do I walk back to the gates of my home kingdom, no horse, no parade of wealth, head hung low? No feast, no gifts, un-poured wine, just disappointed faces burnt into my soul as I go to sleep on a quiet first night back.

Wandering a world which no longer wants me. Chasing fleeting dreams.  Where do I go now, what do I do? Shed my armor, hide my sword, become...like them...hide my tears under their expectations?  Betray my soul and all I know? Hands that were willing to work, now just hanging by my side as my abandoned heart can't hold them up any more.  Stolen...robbed.

Comet

 I stood and watched you. 

An orange ball of fire trailed with flames breaking the horizon.  So high up but I could still feel the heat on my cheeks.  The rumble still reverberating through the ground, up through my feet and into my soul like a direct intended path.  For a moment you were directly over me and a tear from you dropped on my face.  I swore you penetrated my soul, but you didn't stop.  If you were screaming trying to find yourself, no one knows.  If you were in pain, no one knew.  You were on fire, chasing something or something, chasing you. I couldn't tell and you couldn't say.  Nothing looked like you in the sky that day, nothing felt like you, then or after.  

Silence now

All I see now is the tail of flames as you race to the other side and out of view.  The rumbles now a whisper and my chest now hollow...vacant. Your trail disappeared over the other horizon but you left a blaze in me, in my soul, in my mind...marked, forever. I stand in my present, alone, now a ghost as my life moves on, without you.  A coldness only your fire can warm up. Seeking, searching for a scent of your tinder.  My feet, imprisoned in a slow search to find what left me that day in someone else, since I couldn't fly to chase you. Could something so powerful be repeated?  So I went on a search.  A fool's errand.

Years pass.

A familiar rumble in the distance catches my ear.  I turn back to the horizon you first entered.  I see you. I see you lower, lower in the sky.  So low I don't have to raise my head.  Your blazing right towards me...at eye level.  My breathing speeds up, your orange ball of fire I could fit in between my fingers in the sky years ago is now a huge white circle twice my height.  Your not slowing down, you're coming right at me.  My chest recognizes your heat and immediately heats up to match yours.  I clench my fists and brace myself for impact.  Why don't I move out the way or run? Am I afraid or relieved, I cant tell.  Louder, closer, faster, the ground below my feet starts to break apart.  I close my eyes as my skin starts to burn.  Behind my clenched eyes, your light is so bright I still start to see white as you get closer.  I don't know when you hit me, I didn't feel it, as if it wasn't an external event.  I know my feet are no longer on the ground. Silence now.  I'm floating, everything white, everything, slow.  My eyes still closed but my hands are no longer in a fist.  I don't know what's happening but I'm not scared.  The heat that started to burn my skin is now just a warmth cloaking me.  If I open my eyes will I see your face in front of mine?  Will I see it's your arms carrying me and your chest against mine, warming me up?  My shell has been so empty without you. Is this you coming back to stay, with me, for good? Is this a dream? I keep my eyes closed...for now.

Still Here, But Not.

 I'm still finding your hair when I clean.  A strand here and there, not as much as in the beginning.  It's like you're still here.  I feel  it drift across my hand and land so softly.  I see how strong it is yet curved in my hand seeking shelter.  I squeeze it like I don't want to let you go, but you're gone.  I close my grip somehow wishing wherever you are, you would feel my touch on your shoulder or your face.  A wish I play over and over, each time I find your hair, here.

The rip is still exposed, so many questions, so many needs, so many wants, abandoned. Why did you have to be broken, you were perfect. Or at least perfect in my mind, a mind which wanted so desperately to wish away the damage.  I climbed high because your love is so deep, I wanted to be so high I couldn't see what I didn't want to see.  

Time heals all they say, but how can time heal something that has no end.  You're not here to touch, but I remember how you smell.  I remember the pain, but in order to remember the pain I remember the love.  While I train myself to remember why I can't, I'm bombarded with why I want to.  The opposites can't exist without each other, so either I love you and be in pain or being in pain without you while my love for you exists. Both are hell.

This fight of oil and water are stuck. I am the jar imprisoning them, shaking them, trying to stir away the pain and chasing a dream they will mix so I can feel your face in my hand again. I want something I can't make happen.  A prison in and of itself, tortured by these strands of hairs, here.  The torment of having a few good days then finding one and becoming frozen, staring at it, wishing I could pull on it and pull you from where you are to right in front of me and knowing all the while it will never happen. Whichever devil created this cell, did well.

All I can do is remain silent. Do you know what it feels like to squeeze a crying heart and tell it not to cry anymore?  The pressure against your hand, the heat, the stifled beats and whimpering vibrating up your arm forcing all the thoughts of all the good times, stinging you with heated moments of passion trying to get you let go and scream out your name and run...to her.   

I feel like our love, beyond the dark, was my whole life summed up in her first name. So I don't clean my place perfectly each time so I can keep finding your hair, here.  It makes me feel like you're still here, but not.

Let it burn

 Our quarrels sparked the sharp bitter words flying out our mouths and they fell on the carpet.

We walked over them as if they were never there, ignoring the orange specs.

We wanted the pretty living room to make it go away, but the smoke started to lift.

We ignored the smell of smoke and just kept spraying air freshener and lighting incense.

When the smoke make it hard to see, just blamed each other for making us cry so much we can't see.

We moved to the bedroom and climbed into bed, hoping a new day will reset what we want to see in our heads.

When the fire backed us in separate corners, we finally ran out the front and back doors.

"What about our memories?!"

"Let it burn, we waited too long, let them release into the heavens"

"What about this house we took years to build?!"

"Let it burn, we only filled it with bitterness, pride and pain."

"We have nothing left?!"

"We never did".

Moving...on.

 I can go days without thinking about you now.
You were like a lamp, in a painting of a living room,
an expected thought, a fixture.
You were every second. Now you're a surprise.

After a few days when you pop in, it's not the
actual thought surprising me, but the fact that it's
been days since the last one.
Are you finally becoming a faded memory? Will I
one day have to puzzle at what your name was?
Should I fight to keep you alive or should I fight to
live the life in front of me.  And even that is a question, 

was the future meant without you?

So when your face, your voice, your touch visits
my wondering mind, I can't tell why anymore.
Confused whether to feel glad that you are no longer
the backsplash of my days, or wonder if the growing
distance is a warning, like fading ping when you're
going in the wrong direction. I don't know but I do
know these thoughts are not steps my actual feet
are making. Every sure footing without you is
proof of something, something that no longer
needs you, whether it be good or bad. 

I can't rewrite the past and I don't have a crystal ball
showing me what's next. But what I can do is look
at my standing feet and dare to take another
step, and another , and see that I am still here, 

breathing and still me. Will I ever forget you, I don't know. 

Your memory exists like a passing wind, it didn't change me, 

and I know another will pass again and again. 

Some I won't even notice, some I will. 

But I look at my feet and I look at my
present, here, without you...proof I can move on.
Proof I can rebuild, proof I can be alive again.
Only the heavens know what's next 

and you know what, that's quite ok. 

I stand, I dare.

10 Paces

 Our backs turned, pressed against each other, maybe for the last time. We feel the warmth of our bodies pressed in. The pressure, the heat, almost like we're holding each other for the last time.  Our troubled embrace flooding memories of ravenous nights, tangled sleep, hiding from the mornings and promises of forever.  On the other side of our backs are angry faces, tired, torn...in pain.

First Step.

The journey of the end begins, but first, we gasp, at the cold air sweeping down our backs through our clothes as we rip apart our bond. The chill of being alone sets in. We thought the world couldn't separate us, but here we are, striking the first blow.

Second Step.

We thought we'd fall and die, but the second step is our will to survive.  But all we can think about is the shock that we're actually doing this. After everything we've been through.

Third Step

Anger pushes this step.  All our failures and disappointments reminded us why we need to be here and their tears become smothered under the crunch of our heels.

Fourth Step

For the pain we caused each other, then...and now, yes, even now. Tears we showed the world then, tears we hold back now.  This must be done.

Fifth Step 

The confirmation step. Slow and almost hesitant. Columbus' ocean might as well be the distance between us now. 

Sixth Step

Memories make its last ditch effort to save us.  Visions of love making and interlocked fingers now clutching our ankles.  Our strong forward faces now pointed down, lost in sadness.

Seventh Step

Could we try again?  After all the agains and agains and agains? What we've wanted we've never been able to give each other.  Failed, time and time again.  Our love was too strong to follow this world's rules.

Eighth Step

Fear of losing each other steps in, almost overtaking the pain. 

Ninth Step

We did it. The love we thought could never be defied, now facing it's own mortality. Authored by us.

Tenth Step

Silence. Thoughts run and hide... then one final breath.

Turn....

Owed To My Dad

On my 15th birthday, you came and said, "Andre, you're a man now...it's time to go out there and learn the world". That phrase has been burnt into my hands, my feet, my eyes.  I watched you as you would drive your sleeping family on Sunday nights back from the country.  I listened, as you made me sit in the passenger seat and tell me I need to learn to be awake for the whole drive, as it will be my turn to drive my sleeping family and I will need to be vigilant. I'm not sure if you thought my young ears would not listen but I did. I listened to all your quotes and sayings over the years.  I never said thank you because, at the time, I was too young to understand or live most of them, but as I went out into the world, they would become my sword and shield.  

We butted heads because you wanted me to be a doctor but when my life was upside down, I joined the health industry becoming a fitness mentor helping people with their health and I was successful at it, as a matter of fact, that's how I met the woman of my dreams.  And look at where I am now, soaring in leadership in the largest Hospital network in the Northeast USA.  I may not hold a scalpel but I've been affecting lives on a daily basis...you win.  

We butted heads again when you wanted me to be a pilot, but I have become a pilot, a pilot of my life. I went out there and took charge, took chances, I figured things out, I did what I had to do, and now I've climbed to heights with even more to soar in this endless horizon I am no longer afraid of.  I'm high on life dad, thanks to you...you win, again.

Whenever a challenge presents itself in my life, regardless of my actions, you're words and mom's words always come to mind first. They're tattooed in my mind guiding me and keeping me safe.  I thought I would never be as great as you, so I never acknowledged my own accomplishments.  But the people I now love and cherish have shown me I have much to celebrate and though not in the exact footsteps, they have shown me my greatness, a greatness worthy of acknowledgment.  They say "Like father, like son", I used to shy away from that saying, now I wear it proud.  As I move further into my own journey of life, I want you to know you have armed me well. You have raised an intelligent, strong, capable and proud son.  I conquer anything I put my mind to, in my name and yours and I want you to know I remain graced to be your son, proud to use my sword and shield, confident that what you have taught me can be taken to the Bank of Life any day, any time.  Being lucky to be your son has not only charged me with having a fruitful life, but determined to carry your vision as my own and pass down this sword and shield, making you live...forever. Thanks Daddy.

The Receipt

 You walk around with my heart in your back pocket like an old receipt you forgot about.

You smile, hang out with friends, laugh, drink, while I'm there, stifled,  hidden...forgotten.

No clue I'm there, no clue how much I loved you, no clue how much I'll always be in love with you.

You go home and throw your jeans on the floor, almost like trash..the way you threw me.

I end up in a washing machine and my heart gets drowned, ripped apart then burned in the dryer but you only take out the jeans. 

Your eye catches pieces of white paper, I think you finally see me and I look up with the gaze of a soul being rescued from hell.

But all you did was gather me up, crumple me, again, after all the hurt and in a final act of rejection, you throw me in the trash, now literally just as figuratively.  

I guess my circle of use and relevance is now complete.

You put those jeans on again and go out.

Pulse

Pulse

I never knew I had a pulse,

until I met you.

I never heard it's beat

Until you kissed me.

I never felt its light

Until you pulled it from the hole it was in.

I never felt alive

until you loved me.

I never thirsted for life

until you told me of your dreams.

I couldn't feel anything

until you put your hand in mine.

If my heart couldn't take it

You would give me yours.

I may lose my way sometimes

But your love will beat for us.

I woke up to a new world

Because your blood watered my soul.

Every pulse of my being now only beats for you.

Your face, your voice, your love courses through my veins.

My very existence is crafted by your smile.

With this pulse, I live.

With this pulse, I love.

Hibernate

I look up to the darkening clouds one last time to see the last sunset kiss my skin before going in.

Winds that kissed my cheek speed up and start to get angry, and rumble.  Sun rays which cascaded the mountain-side recluse and lightening descends. Only, this was not the weather turning the season, the cave I'm entering is not my home.  My paradise was you, your eyes, and arms my home. The storm coming is my guilt from my betrayal, this cave is my castaway.  Expelled from your heart, this cave is now my prison, a world without you. Nothing to do but compress my love and feel my soul crack from the inside. It wales and lashes in my chest, in my head, in my hands.  No sword to kill it, no shield to stop its sting.  I can't make it go away and it will not leave.  I will make it sleep...a silent fight, a silent struggle, a silent torment.  Curled up clutching my chest, holding it with all my might while my love for you slumbers restlessly knowing I can't give it to anyone else but you. 

Outside is pitch black now, just rain and thunder in all their fury. Rain dops so angry, when the lightning strikes they look like bars caging me in. My life rolls on like a sealed can on a conveyer belt, no one knows I'm empty.  I look like everyone else, I have to, or I would fall to my knees in agony, crippled in mourning. You look at me and you see a functioning shell, passing all the tests.  But just below my skin is a scream so soul-shattering waiting to escape.   

When will I have your face 6 inches from mine, when will our fingers be clasped while we sleep, when will your eyes show me forever.  This will never happen again. But this guilt is mine to carry until Anubis calls out to me.  I will never give it to anyone else,  While my love for you slumbers on, I will stroke its hair as I would if you were asleep beside me.  I will kiss its forehead as it is the most precious thing to me. I will lock my arms around it as I will hold no one else this tight, ever again.  I will keep my eyes closed and hold on to your image in my mind for as long as I take breath. I've had your love and with it, I need not love again, for your embrace is perfection and your kiss is an intergalactic exploration.  Our memories will soothe my years. To die alone and join the slumber of my love for you, reunited and I won't have to fight anymore. I won't have to hang my head in shame anymore.  I won't have to look at those bars or hear the thunder anymore.  I can live in the eternal Spring holding your hand and watching you smile at me.  

Until then, hibernate.

Dear Monster

Dear monster, please wake up!
This world is too cold without you, dear monster
I sent you to sleep and cast away the spell to wake you up
Dear monster, please come back.

I tried to love this world with the real me
I gave of me, to help, to love, to protect
But all this world gave back to me was pain
Dear monster please wake up.

When you protected me, we hurt them before they could hurt us.
I was able to save my heart from their scorn
I was able to walk away laughing
Not feeling a thing, because I had you
Dear monster please come back to me.

My world has been stripped like a rose in a tornado
They are cruel to me, dear monster, please wake up
They've used and ridiculed me, dear monster
I told you to go away because I wanted to feel real love
But I was wrong, I'm sorry, dear monster.

Show me your waking red eyes, old friend
Coddle me in your wings
Let me feel your firey breath
Let me hear you growl at them
Dear monster, protect me.

Let me soar though this world and feel no pain.
Burn those who come to use me
Crush those who rejected my love
Drag me away from those I thought I loved
Wrap me in your bosom.

My love will not be returned in this world
Take me away again to where I don't feel, don't care, like them.
Fly my feelings high to where they can't be reached, ever, again.
Come back to me, old friend
Let us fly and rule this world.

Invaded

Surrender your campaign

Lower your flags

Stop the drums

Stop the flutes

Call back the scouts

Tell the centuries to stand down

She approaches.

Archers down

Swords sheathed

Muskets present

Infantry at ease

Let her in.

Prepare the feast

Raise the tent

Ready the gifts

Get the dancers

She is giving her love.

Wake up the blacksmith

Fetch the goldsmith

Gather all the seamstresses

Bring the finest horses

Adorn her with my love.

Get the carpenters

Buy the finest leathers 

Hire the jewelers

Build the finest throne 

She takes her place by my side.

Open the gates

Call the Truce

Let the demons take back the blackness

Reveal the light

Her eyes now light the way.

I burned valleys

I invaded and conquered

I gave nothing back

I answered to no one

Now...I love her.

Three Kings

The Maroon in my blood is injured but still fighting
Swinging his sword, angry and charging with his last few breaths.

The Irish in my blood is hardworking and dreaming of a better tomorrow.

The Indian in my blood respects the gods that made us and understands the spirits of the universe will do what they need to do when they need to do it and not one second sooner.

Black is my blood, white is my blood, brown is my blood.
The fighter, the worker, the dreamer.

They all use my hands, they all walk with me in my journey
They all listen with me but whisper what is true.
They all use my eyes to help me see the world as it is.

Born torn, they work together to create me
A unique me, a me no one else can see
For I am three kings.

When I die, they will go their separate ways
But will forever remember the years they all walked together,
Fighting, working, dreaming.