Two Lives
This one’s another collaboration between myself and @MeeJong. I wrote the first stanza, then we alternated:
When we were kids,
the simplicity was an open sky,
the days were for playing,
finding diamonds in the sand;
the nights were for chasing fireflies,
and the monsters under our beds
could be defeated by a hug,
a kiss, and a prayer.
When we were kids,
the simplicity was an open mind,
the days were for wondering,
finding dimensions in empty land;
the nights were for chasing dreams,
with warm pillows under our heads
and morning brought light,
a kiss, and breakfast.
The years went by
bringing falling leaves and snow,
and the nightmares started to show;
the bullies and heartbreakers,
cheaters and drug dealers,
and the dreams were stretched thin,
stolen and broken,
as reality dropped like a thumping beat.
I slid through shadows
afraid someone would notice me,
afraid no one would;
the nerds or popular kids,
jocks or stoners,
and attention felt like spiders on my skin,
itchy and wrong,
as reality faded into a backdrop.
I started looking for attention
on stages where I could show off talents
like fancy clothes and jewelry
draped over a skeleton or a zombie;
the reality was that true connection
was hard and rare,
like the questing beast, the white stag,
but I could pretend through alcohol and performance.
The years went by
bringing love and loss in tow,
and the recklessness did grow;
the lost nights and brutal mornings,
guilt and shame,
and the dreams were nowhere in sight,
discarded and forgotten,
but I could pretend through alcohol and performance.
I spent time filling in the map in my mind
with Colorado mountains and Utah deserts,
hiking, mountain biking, rock climbing,
finding peace beneath the Milky Way,
loneliness in a Mexico parking lot,
beads, sex, and insanity at Mardi Gras,
crazy love back in Baltimore
in the blazing white night.
I spent time running from myself
East Coast to West Coast,
Army, homelessness, exotic dancing,
following boys around the country,
loneliness in a sea of people,
drinking, sex, and insanity in Anderson,
regrouping back in Baltimore
in the unstable stable.
I chased women through the bars,
blacked out for crazy drives home,
played dazed in rock bands,
read poetry out to the masses,
drenched my nights in seas of dirty martinis,
and everything came to a screeching halt
after I tried to run a cop off the road
and ended up hung over in central booking.
I ran home drunk from the bars,
blacked out and woke in random places,
jumped on random strangers’ motorcycles,
read poetry in small places,
drowned my youth in vodka and gin,
until I blacked out at a club
and woke-up in the hospital
warned they almost had to put me on life support.
When I came through, I found wild love
that ended in an explosion of silence.
I filled the space with dates like shuffling cards,
and settled on a sure thing, started a family
with four beautiful kids and church on Sundays.
When the sure thing ended, I was left wondering
if I’m just another wandering soul
who tried to fence himself in.
When I came through, I found solid love
that crumbled into an angry silence.
I navigated the Mexican standoff,
and my ground was stolen from under me
two beautiful kids a few buses and a train ride away.
When they moved back to town, I was left wondering
how I can escape the scars
of my broken family.
In the aftermath,
as I started to rebuild,
I search for salvageable parts,
pieces I can keep and new horizons;
I’ll always have God, the four beautiful kids,
my poetry and fiction, my music,
and there’s an amazing new connection
that actually isn’t so new.
In the aftermath,
as I scale mountains,
and crawl out of ravines,
I pray mostly for sanity;
grateful for the life I’ve lead,
even all the tears I’ve shed,
the people, places and things,
the way that my heart still sings.
So grateful too,
For writing, and for you.