Deepest comfort, warmth permeates,

Hearts bared out loud, shame exstingished,

Insecurities fade, fast as a tan,

Stroking my pale arm, constellating freckles,

I tossle his hair just to peek at the silver patch,

The one he used to hate, to pluck and oppose,

Kiss his smile, makes me smile,

But more than touch, a true ,

No coincidence was uncoincidental,

Eyes need not shift in his direction,

Sensing his very thoughts,

Words spoken in a silent tongue,

Next moment is cold, unforgiving,

My heart didn't break, my very soul relinquished,

For this hole punched out, allows only one key,

That key changed its form,

By the cheapest locksmith,

Dirty trick old friend, or whatever you became,

People pass by my vision,

Emptiness passes my mind,

This handshake feels,

Though garners null emotion,

Nobody to give thought of but myself,

Is a miserable existence, is isolation.

You've always been a constant source

of love and wisdom both,

encouragement a driving force

behind our moral growth.

From babes to parents, you've nursed scrapes

and mended broken hearts-

a nurturing that we embrace,

though now we are adults.

You've always been our biggest fan,

no matter our mistakes;

so, on your birthday, understand-

you cannot be replaced.

We whisper in the kitchen,

So as not to disturb his slumber,

Tiptoe tiptoe tiptoe is all we do,

To let him sleep, not trigger the bomb,

The bomb goes by many names,

Anxiety, depression, possibly bipolar,

Send him plethoric at minuscule matters,

Strained relationships over scruples,

Not one to hit, but verbal iniquity,

Is what made mother stay,

Safety presumed, though in reality,

Arrows strike merely inches nearby,

Every word, though carefully articulated,

Actuated attack, demanded a win,

Eyebrows adhere permanent expression,

Of one who's relief cannot ebb,

Cannot make a decision with him,

Cannot choose a thing without,

No matter the ways you go about it,

We all suffer one man's lack of peace.

With your sun-kissed skin

And your golden curls

And baby-blue eyes

That attract all the girls

I loved you as soon

As you came in sight

I followed you by day

And all through the night

And when you saw me

I did what I could

I repeated your words

But it did no good

You got annoyed

You don't understand

From words of my own

Forever I'm banned

But I cannot say that

I've felt like I'm stuck

Ever since Hera

Put me out of luck

So now you just sit

And gaze at the stream

In which your reflection

So brightly gleams

And I am stuck here

Repeating their words

Not thinking about

How bad my heart hurts

One sip, one look, one taste, one shot,

Then all I had was suddenly not,

I had everything, but didn't know,

Now here I lay, frostbitten in snow,

Wanting more at first inspired,

Left me successful, little to be desired,

Provider of my own family,

A home to which I held the key,

But then enough was not enough,

Advertised happiness actually handcuffs,

Holding me captive, leading me away,

While I smiled and paid bits more each day,

Family warned me, but I didn't listen,

New friends gripped, diamonds glisten,

Wallet stayed out, wallet lost weight,

No need to tempt me, no need for bait,

Spouse and children left, days later I discovered,

Bought a playmate to replace them, easily recovered,

I truly had more now, though not all good,

Troubles, debts, STD's, paranoid attitude,

Dreaded day came, no money to pay,

Shakes of heads, new "friends" scurried away,

Sold all belongings to get one last hit,

Needed so desperately just a little bit,

Don't recall the day I lost the house,

Laid drunken in streets, christened a louse,

No home to return to, a craving to fix,

I headed downtown, for people to trick,

Moments in between, no money to spare,

Sobering up, wondering why I was there,

I'd been happy, comfortable even,

Kids, a spouse to whom I should have cleaven,

My head fills with screaming, I realize it's my own,

Desperate to move, but I'm chilled to the bone,

This moment of clarity comes all too late,

Tears freeze in my eyes, I've accepted my fate,

As I've given up, a light shines through the haze,

An angel has come to save me from my ways,

The light draws closer, shines orange and warm,

I can just make out a figure through the battering storm,

A smile appears, but not one that seems kind,

Chills colder than the temperature run down my spine,

The glow I thought divine to get out of my rut,

Was merely the burn of a cigarette butt,

Hands grab my jacket, tattered and tore,

"You once possessed wealth, but I've always been poor"

He says with a sneer, greed shines in his eye,

"I may as well take this, for soon you'll die."

Too weak to fight, too stiff to clutch,

The lowest reason I owe them this much,

I laugh as he walks away, drifting to dream,

Jokes on him as I see light, a shimmer, a gleam.

...

It’s funny, really.

How we stare from our balconies at the ants scurrying below. How we pass them on the streets—the wanting eyes, the starving mouths, the empty hands. Hair stiff as wire, clothing an amalgam of layered coats and scarves, mismatched socks, worn-out sandals.

We pass them, and we think.

That could never be me.

Look at here. Look at now. In this moment, I’m all set. We get so acclimated to small comforts that our minds can’t even meet them halfway down. We can’t see ourselves in their shoes. Our imaginations just aren’t that big.

I used to think like that. Before the divorce and the alimony, before the recession, before the unemployment and fire and the insurance company refusing to compensate because I didn’t insure every blade of grass in my yard or knick-knack in my study.

I downsized to a trailer. But welfare cut my benefits again five months ago, and just like that I was another ghost at the panhandle. It all happened so slow. It all happened so fast.

And time don’t wait. They say it moves quicker as you get older. All I know is, as a starry-eyed grad student, I never pictured it would end up like this. I never pictured myself as a middle-aged loner sleeping with the rats under blankets of corrugated tin. This isn’t the life I went three-hundred-grand in the hole to build.

But where did I go wrong?

One minute, everything was falling into place. The next it was falling to pieces, and as hard as I tried to preserve it, the decay was just too persistent. It spread too fast, and overtook my future.

Everything’s decayed now.

Even my memories are starting to rust.

There’s a lady out here I used to pass by on my way to work, every day. I used to avert my gaze, never locking with her hungry, pothole eyes. Her chessboard teeth. Her gnarled, swollen hands and yellowed, untrimmed nails. They would reach. And I would walk. And she would call. And I would walk. And she would say “God bless you” anyway. And smile.

And I would walk.

Silent. Distracted. Too consumed by dizzying fantasies of the trophy wife who left me. Our future children that we never had. A bigger house, twice the size of the meager three-bedroom apartment we shared. I always wanted bigger, I guess. Now I have nothing. Now I’d settle for what we wanted to leave behind in a heartbeat.

I met that lady again just the other day. Apparently she’d found a shelter uptown a few months back and they’d helped her get her life in order. She got on as a dishwasher at this little diner. She looked a lot cleaner. Not fancy, by far. But she looked...ever-so-slightly like I used to. It was a sobering reversal, watching her hands.

They reached. And I couldn’t walk anymore. And she called, and from my teary eyes I could make out that her hands were no longer empty. They didn’t ask; they offered.

At the end of the day, I never had the heart to take her money.

But I learned her name.

It was Lila. Lila McPherson.

She had a name.

They all did.

Oh, and one more little bit of information I left out. The last doctor visit I could afford didn’t go so good. Not that it mattered. At this point I’d give anything just to get out.

Another year at most I’ve got to rot in this place.

I could look for the shelter that rehabilitated Lila. But why? I’d be getting polished up just to die. Anything from hereon out is an exercise in futility.

So now all I can do is find my reflection in passing. Wait for a bus window or puddle or mirror. Find myself, and try to recognize. Find myself, and try to remember. Still, it seems every newest version of myself I find, he’s so far removed from the man I knew. And there’s no strength left to change him.

All I can do is remind him, reassure him.

He has a name too.

#fiction, #prose, #challenge, #homeless, #depression

He hovers beside you, but from a distance

and holds you back, without a touch

without eye contact, he forces his trance

sit still and act pretty, but not too much

Hes watching, you can feel his gaze

he gives the room a warm greeting

yet you feel the ground freeze

He controls you, without saying

Without saying a damned thing

I'm fine. It could be worse. Many people have it way worse, I should be thankful. What right do I have to complain? Everybody's healthy, that's all I should be concerned about. I'll sleep eventually. Sure, I'll get up every night. Sure, you do what you want to do whenever you want. I'll lose the baby weight, so what if I don't recognize myself in the mirror. I'll get into a routine soon. After today, no carbs.

It's not forever. I will look back on this time and laugh.

Even crackheads have babies, I can do this.

Stifling. Stretching, still somehow stagnant. Simply sulking. Stop.

There. Triumphs, treasons - thrice thought. Tumbling through time, thrashing to try to

rest. Restless, relentless, reoccurring. Returning raging, rioting, real revenge. Resistance - 

endless. Empty. Enormous empire, ending eons evaded. Ever-evolving, ever earning

streaming straits, simmering sweat, stilled shivers, silenced shock. Still stifled.

Struggling. Staggering. Standing. Stranded, striving some serenity. Staying ~

to fight another day.

hourglass of time

seems to flow quicker these days

each grain of sand

seems to disappear with a simple moment

tick tock tick tock

my time has run out with bland shock

i shall never know how much sand lies in my hourglass

i try grasp onto it

but the sand eventually slides out of my fingers

falling into the great ocean of eternity

written with the help of @littlesquiddie