I must thank you for trying even if it wasn't what I needed.
Sometimes things just don't work out.
I can't escape this reality,
so I search for a different mentality.
Yet I fear I'm losing my mind,
afraid of what I may find
If I look too close. I don't know
where the thoughts go
When they seep away through the cracks
in my skull. Maybe they're what takes me back
To the drowning place. That rioting crowd
tumbling and twisting all screaming so loud
So that I can only hear all or none.
The haze residing in my brain has blocked out the sun
For so long that I no longer remember the sky.
Somewhere inside someone's been screaming and I never know why.
I can only hope to whatever god that I don't need wings to fly.
Sometimes I wonder who it is you write about.
Is it someone I know?
Is it me?
Is it some other story, which none of us know?
If you tell, what would I learn?
Would we laugh together or would I take offense?
I am curious,
but they say curiosity killed the cat.
A sea of stars
I hate to admit it, but
I need you.
I need you to need me,
to anchor me,
to remind me
of who I am.
I need you to understand
I am stronger than I look,
and some of that strength
belongs to protecting the few
I trust you.
I can not foretell the rosy dawn,
yet do not fear I will will be lost
to the dark,
I navigate by my own stars.
Light in the Dark
In waiting for dawn, for the clear blue of day,
they waste their lives away, forgetting
the light in the dark,
the stars shimmering silver against the gray.
Don't they know the worst battles to fight are the ones against your own mind? After all, you'll always have the best arguments against yourself.
I watch you who has so much to say.
I watch you, who speaks so easily.
I see you, so very human.
I look at myself, made of the abyss.
I look to myself, and barely catch the whisper of stories.
I see my reflection,
a face like yours,
hands like yours,
but not a mind like yours.
We stand together, but
many lightyears span the distance.
Now I ask, what could span the difference?
the slow drift of magma pulsing against the confines of stone,
the quiet shift of the tide reclaiming coastlines,
the steady march of continents.
the whispers winding through the pine needles,
the tumbling, crackling flames painting the sidewalk auburn,
the brilliant slash of purple lances in a storm-whirled sky,
the shards of crystal glazing windows,
the breath clouding the mirror,
the blurred drizzle of frozen grey skies.
the stillness of the galaxy spilling across my mind,
the sacredness of the gold drifting through the canopy,
the prismatic reflections birthed by the babbling brook.
the vast grey expanse of shattered asphalt streets,
the wandering stray with dirty fur,
the rust devouring old cars and abandoned bikes.
the endless churning of the sea,
the contrast of liquid obsidian and aquamarine,
the currents ferrying both trash and treasure and creature alike,
the slow warming of oceans in the spring,
(I am) shifting yet ever the same.
Forgive me if I'm too full of my self,
it seems to be a lesson I'm forever learning
how to find balance between,
no, a space away from
self-loathing and arrogance,
how to just
take a breath
to just be.
When I was little
I read and read
What am I looking for?
all that I wanted
to read my own.
Now it all seems
like a story I read,
like a story read to me,
They seem all
reality too distant.
I will not lose
I will not weep for what could be,
what should be,
I will write
my own story,
where I am the hero.