jump.

17 02 2017

what if i jumped?
what if i just chose to go
up instead of down
left instead of right, to
let go of what’s heavy instead of
breaking beneath the weight of
this life, because
i am surely breaking.

what if i jumped?
what if i just chose to trust
faith instead of fear
hope instead of hate, to
let go of yesterday, instead of
carrying the shame of
this past, because
i am surely breaking.

what if i jumped?
what if i just chose to fall
out of this prison cell
into the great wide open, to
let go of comfort, instead of
clinging to the familiarity of
this darkness, because
i am surely breaking.

what if i jumped?
would you catch me or
teach me to fly?
would you watch silently as
i crash into the great
unanswered why?
would you produce all
the answers or
wrap me in the
sacred silence of
love that just
shows up.
would you consume all
the chaos or
capture me in the
soul-net safety of
love that just
shows up.

do you hear me?
do you see me?
do you love me?
what if i jump…

because i am surely breaking.





top locker valentine.

16 02 2017

my heart still hurts when
i think of you and
words still hang
between us like
dusty christmas decorations on
july fourth, and
as my lights flicker out
one by one, i realize that
i no longer belong here.

where is the boy that
ran to say goodnight just
one last time, the
boy that grinned so wide
when his eyes met mine, the
love that bled and bled and
bled through the years and
never let go, but
now i cannot find
your hand, your
eyes, your smile.

this is seven valentines without
you, seven reminders of
broken dreams and of
our childhood love lost, of
loneliness, and the flowers and
chocolates that you
bought for someone else.

do you ever think of me?  i know
i cannot even whisper
such things, so i bleed and
i bleed and i bleed in
silence.  two lives far
flung, and your love still
spun into my soul, this
woman undone by the
memory of
that boy.

the girl in
me slides a red
valentine through the
slots in his locker and
hopes that he knows that
she sure misses him.





walking the perimeter.

17 09 2016

my soul flows like the waters of
this stream, a story under every
stone, every pebble;
energy in every current, some
fast and some slow (but
all is me), sometimes
shallow and sometimes deep,
meandering, moving and
ever-changing, but
the water always
find a way to where
it is supposed to be.

earthy smells rise from
the riverbank and fish dart left and
right in whimsical play, safe within
their crystal and sunlit habitat;
my toes run across
a floor of river rocks, some
smooth and round, others
broken and sharp (but all
are mine), sometimes the
waters rise and sometimes the
meadow grasses thirst for rain, but
the mountain supplies her endless well
from deep within.

bubbling water cascades over and
around, creating the sounds of
comfort, the sounds of home;
this stream runs through
my soul, and today i am
walking the perimeter.





expired.

1 09 2016

fall is coming.

i smell her in the soil and
i catch her song in the rustling of
the morning leaves.

she is such a brave mother-fucker as
she releases the leaves that have expired and
asks no questions of what she
did wrong or why she
wasn’t enough to
keep them
alive.

as greens turn to crimson and
goldenrod, perhaps my heart will
turn from fire to embers and maybe
i will learn from sister autumn to
let go of you.





antidote.

26 08 2016

you said that
i am in love with you, that
you can see it in my eyes, but
i don’t even know anymore.

maybe it was the smell of
that balminess you
rub into your beard or
maybe it was the
serendipity of knowing
you were near or maybe
it was just the alcohol that
quiets all my fears and
convinces me that
dark can be light and
i can trust the night and
maybe that’s what you
saw in my eyes.

i have said that
i love the way our
brokenness dances together, but
your brokenness treats me
like shit, and
my brokenness lets you, so
perhaps the familiarity of
pain and commiseration is
actually the antithesis of
healing, the opposite of
home.

you said that
i am beautiful, that
you can see it across my life, but
do you love me beneath
my skin?

you are ambiguous and
hesitant and the words that
mean the most are mumbled under
cowardly breaths with
eyes averted.

there are many things that
i feel for you, but
the question is truly
what do you feel for me?

i was told that men show
their intentions and their heart with
their behavior and not
their words, and when
i view the youandme through
that lens, how
you feel (or who
you are) is quite clear

because you know how to
unshutter the windows of
my soul, but the truth doesn’t
stutter when you turn and
let go, you
always let go of
me.

you said that
i only love you when
you are walking away, but
how will you ever know if
you don’t ever stay?

maybe the truest question is
why do i keep showing up?

you are the antidote to
my ancient sadness (though
quick-acting, but
not long-lasting) and
your accolades drip
like honey off your tongue
onto my soul, you are like
heroin in my blood that
lifts me above
the tangled briars of
childhood and beyond the
wreckage of failed
fathers and husbands; i know
you are no savior and
no god, but god damnit
i love taking hits off of
your moonlit skin, despite the
emotional hangover that
awaits me when i wake up in
the forever of
lonely tomorrows.

so maybe it’s not love, and
maybe the magic between us is
better called addiction and
maybe the problem
(after all) is
me.

fuck.





the pieces of you.

24 08 2016

i lied to you (and
maybe i lied to myself) when
i said that
those were the last words
i would ever write for you.

perhaps i didn’t think you
would be back or
perhaps i didn’t think i would
take you back, but
either way you have
come and gone again and
all tear-stained promises and
angry ultimatums aside
these words must spill from
this dilapidated soul so
the orphan-pilgrim can be free.

i am trying in so many ways to
be enough for you
can’t you see how much
i am trying?
can’t you breathe over me as
i am dying?
the poisoned air of this
love unrequited
the unpoised fare of this
woman plighted
when all i ever wanted was
you, my love,
all i ever wanted was you.

yet i am always
abbreviated
punctuated
depreciated and
hesitated
deeply bracing for you to
let go and let go
because that is what you do
my love
make a show of
my soul
it’s what they always do

i know that this is
not me this time
not my fault
not my deficit of enough and
not my superfluous love

it is you (my love)

your magic and brilliance and
strength and courage and
depth and complexity and
breadth and simplicity
all wrapped up in
a fifteen year-old boy that
is trapped in the brawny
muscle and bone and body of
a man who misses his father

where did you leave and
why did you go?
was i not good enough?
i just need to know
worth the time
worth the trouble
worth the work
worth the words
worth the truth
worth the peace
worth the pieces of you
why?

you call into the dark in
the midnight hours, and
so i ask the same of your
withholden powers
why?

how can i be so
torn apart?
loving you so
honestly and
holding my heart
together, waiting for
the bottom to fall out
always waiting for
the bottom to fall out

because you will let go of me
(my love) you always let go
why?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





moment by moment.=

23 07 2016

i stumbled across
an old picture of
a man that i once
loved;
i fumbled with
the nostalgic loss of
a hope that so quickly
dissipated.

for a moment
i trusted you
for a moment
i saw you and
you saw me too;
for a moment
you held me
for a moment
you loved me and
i loved you too.

but day collapsed into
midnight and
the candlelight that we
danced in was
snuffed out;
kindness was swallowed up in
accusation and intimidation and
the happiness that i
believed in was
crushed.

i tumbled under
the crashing waves of
this anger that i didn’t
understand;
i was numb against
the blasting shocks of
this explosion that i didn’t
expect.

for a moment
i feared you
for a moment
i (really) saw you and
you saw me too;
for a moment
you held me (down)
for a moment
you had me and
i hated you for it.

but the wife became
the mother and
the silence that you
demanded was
broken;
courage was borne from
injustice and
the spell that
entranced me was
broken.

for a moment
i hid from you
for a moment
i ran and
you ran too;
for a moment
you had me (down)
for a moment
you fought me (and
i fought you too).

i crumbled under
the surging purge of
your lies, your
endangerment;
i succumbed to
the harm and hurt of
our dance and its
entanglement.

for a moment
i grieved you
for a moment
i (truly) saw you and
i (truly) saw me too;
for a moment
you released me,
for a moment
you looked away and
i was gone.

now the sun is overtaking
the shadows and
the nightmare that held
the silenced child is
waking;
time heals the
(ex)wife and the mother and
the words that bled onto
yesterday’s page are
fading.

i stumbled across
a forsaken picture of
who we used to be
i am humbled by
the distance run so
this captive could be
free.