Your words were a fist

pounding into my soul

in fetid drops of corroded saliva.

I frantically exhaled you from my life,

scurrying behind my plastered walls

remembering the imposter, Nostalgia,

who left bruises on my hips, outlining

misery we embraced as we danced,

desolately without music, hovering

over abyss of festered lies.

You, a whining bird of prey, are a scar,

a knotted cloud disappearing into night.

Your phony love bled through my cuts

and bruises, leaving a legacy of hurt.

I wipe my dreams clean with scraps of

toilet paper, flushing you down my drain,

my despondent fingers tracing torn photos,

only thing you left were empty whiskey bottles

and broken memories of bullets in my heart.

home again

airport crowds 

daddy, where are you?

my ride's here

home again

jiggity jig 

to market, to market?

no, those aren't the right words-- probably not

home again

dallas, texas

cows 

and horse shit (literally)

and fighting

and home 

and fighting

and fighting

and anger

and fighting

it's okay

i'm home again

hit me again with those words

maybe it won't hurt this time

had you heard i was home again?

memories of smells

memories of laughter

memories of fighting

memories of yelling

i'm home again

you're not here this time

jake michael

are you home again?

i feel your spine under my fingertips

i feel you punching me when we were eight

it's nice to be home again

Nostalgia that hits sp hard that ot rattles my bones. I breathe the air of the Audubon Park and drink in the scent of the Ohio River. For a moment I can feel the cold embrace upon my skin. I Want to shake it off but everything here is you. It's you and me. Young and carefree and in love with being young and free.

Riverfront the sights and sounds transport me to days before life overtook us. To midnight walks. Drunk and bold. To your naked flesh and the cool comfort of the Ohio as your lips met mine.

The I loves yous were real then. Or so we thought. Fighting one another to save what we'd built. The image of perfection out weighing our need.

The flowers came today as though I needed a reminder that you were near.

I hope the nostalgia hits you hard...

Willie and Waylon in the rain doesn't overcome the ring on your hand or the girl in my arms. But I want you and that freedom. The movies scenes of '07 replaying in my mind. You always new me to well. The buttons to push. The words to bring me back.

and God did you feel good in my arms. Suddenly there was no aging. There was no has been. There was you and me and we ruled this state. They cringed In fear and opened their arms in love. Because we werewere what we had built. A facade. So untrue to ourselves. Hiding in the shadows. And yet somehow it all made so much sense.

A silent cheers of warm Patron to the girls we once were and quite sip of Woodford for the woman I've become.

Too nostalgia my friend! We'll call it even on the pain.