Say Goodbye...

The last time I called you,
What was it you said?
I'm not in a very talkative mood,
Then you retreated,
Back into your head.

A couple weeks passed,
Or maybe just ten days
Until I got the call,
That changed my life
In so many ways

I raced to your house,
In hopes to find you well
Through sobs and tears
I prayed to a God,
That I'd all but damned to hell 

When I arrived,
They told me you were gone
The shock was too real that
My knees couldn't hold me
And  I fell to the lawn

I was the only one
Who watched them take you away
My brother, my best friend
Gone for now
Until we meet some other way

Photo courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

A Crack in the Ice

Why is it so important for me to have something? Something I can hold and say it's mine... or something that can hold me. Hold me and keep me safe, because I don't think I can do it myself. I think I can do it for you, but I'm wrong. All I have are my own delusional thoughts and the strategy in which I let those thoughts consume me. Sometimes it's slow and creeping, other times it hits me like a wave, knocking me into the rocks.

  

***

As I look into the vastness of my heart I see strength, even though it's clouded by my delusions. I know it's there, because I feel it whip through me like a brisk wind. As soon as I'm ready to fall, the wind picks me up and carries me to the next solid point... if even for a very brief time. I'm found. Found in my own strength. 

It was in a moment like that, after a wind had carried me a distance I couldn't measure, that I found you. Alone on the ice... cracks in every direction. You were scared and honestly, so was I. I tried to reach for you, but the openness was too vast. You had to crawl to me. Every breath I took seemed to slow time, more so than your delicate crawl. 

Oh, what a tortured soul you are. You've suffered through the inconsistency of reality and dreams. Never knowing what to believe, or what to expect. No rest and no reassurance. But now you are saved, if only you can crawl to me. 

The hard, slick ice is unsteady beneath me. When will it break? When will you fall and I loose you forever? We've only just found each other. Don't go now. In my impatience I try to get closer to you and to force myself further onto the capricious ice... and that's when it happens. Like a flash of lightning the ice cracks into a million jagged pathways, exposing the frigid water beneath. 

I feel the weight of reality pull me into the water, as I watch your face contort in horror. At that moment, everything goes black... and the wind begins to blow. 

***

When I woke up, I was in your arms and somehow, you were in mine. The ice was gone and instead we were wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. I felt the wind, gently blowing against my cheek, as I watched it swirl through your hair. I closed my eyes once more and when I opened them again, you were gone. The wind was blowing harder this time and I was ready for it to carry me.

Photo courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

A walk inside my mind, through someone else's eye.

Lonely, 
but never really alone.
Everyday keeps me 
a little closer to home

When I walk, 
I am forever seeking
a gentle voice of hope
But all I hear is my own demons speaking

Photo Courtesy of Milwaukee Noir

There's these things,
that I make up in my head
They keep me from feeling 
like I'm better-off-dead

But I never,
really feel the full ache
I won't let it get that far
I'll simply bend before I break

Whatever will keep me,
from feeling the pain
Is so much easier
than changing the game

On my walks, 
I come to find
that I see more than before
And I'm no longer blind

What I need to feel,
eventually finds a way  through
to my broken heart
An attempt to make it new

I can fight it,
or give in to the hurt
Walk down my path
or put my face in the dirt

Into the dark
I fear what may come
But how much longer
can
I stay numb

The truth is upon me
Showing me the way
To my own salvation
and hope for today

The moon of yesterday
is aglow on the snow
While the sun of tomorrow
Lies somewhere I can't go

Yet...

Oil Change

Today I find myself with time. Time to handle a few errands, (like a free *overdue* oilchange) and time within an errand, to just be still. Instead of sitting in the hard waiting room at the car dealership - with the big screen tv, uncomfortable chairs and all around "bustle" of business on a weekday - I opted to take a walk in the area where the dealership was, in search of a park I thought I remembered being near by.

After cutting through a few parking lots, I found a road and a sign for a park, so I followed it. A little ways down there was a brick building and a nice open space, along a moderate woods. There was a parking lot of sorts and one car parked there. The driver's seat was tilted all the way back, so I suspected someone was napping on their lunch break.

I found a spot in the grass and leaves, under a tree that I didn't know the name of and here I am in this beautiful space... writing.

The trees here could quite possibly be about to hit their peak, in terms of fall color. The space is quite beautiful. There's a mix of bare trees, peppering the green, gold and orange tufts. The sky is blue and white and grey... clouds holding back the sun, like a tattered old shade.

The light, crispy wind makes me think how I wish I had grabbed my vest today, even though I hate how it messes up the back of my hair. It's warmth would've been handy right about now.

The light humming of a leaf blower is the loudest background noise I hear. The sound of the traffic is distant and I can actually hear the leaves rustling in the trees and along the ground. A few birds are scattered about, but right now there is a stillness... and I should really be meditating, but I'm half paranoid about being alone in a strange park and closing my eyes and shit. So I chose to meditate through my words.

I sit here in stillness, inviting my senses to be awakened to everything.

An excerpt from the Moleskine

Today I realized (though I think I've always known) that the losses I've experienced have given me a certain confidence; the confidence to say how I feel and go for what I want. I've earned the desire to not waste any precious moments on this earth, feeling inadequate or insecure. How much time do I have left? I don't know, but I'm sure it won't feel like enough. I, very simply, want to live to my fullest potential, love with my whole heart, see new places and experience a variety of things. I want to embrace change and see it as an opportunity to evolve. I no longer want to be stuck. I want to live while I'm alive.

I am unapologetic for this and for the possibility that it might scare you.

Bed of Lies

My weary head and aching bones,
Need a place to rest.
No accommodation really fits,
Or passes my comfort test.

Feeling like a sleepy cat,
Slowly circling a lap.
Searching for that proper spot,
To curl up for a nap.

It no longer fits me well,
That old usual stand-by.
Looking forward to the satisfaction,
Of some regular shut-eye.

Never knew how much I liked,
Sleeping in a bed.
It's not until I lost that spot,
That I got it through my head.

Comfort doesn't always mean,
Happy and healthy too.
It keeps me stuck in one place,
Knowing what I always knew.

CATharsis

Today I met a cat named Stein.

We hit it off right away. He followed me around while I cleaned his human's house and stole pets and scratches from me whenever he could. We quickly developed a rapport. He would let me love on him while he perched on his cat-tree, then run into each room, just a few paces ahead of me and jump on the highest and most obvious piece of furniture. I'd give him a little love and attention before graciously and apologetically kicking him out.

We did this in a few rooms before we reached the bedroom, where he promptly plopped himself on the bed, exposing his tummy for what I assumed to be, affectionate rubbing. In cat-lover fashion I threw caution to the wind and proceeded to rub his tummy, knowing full-well that I was playing with fire. There's something about rubbing a cats tummy for longer than about three seconds, that causes them to go buck wild on your hand, tearing it up like so many stuffed mice.

With this knowledge in mind, I tempted fate and rubbed Stein's tummy anyway.  I'm sure you can guess what happened next. He snapped forward, grasping the heel of my left hand with one of his (ironically named) canine teeth and tore into my flesh, as if he were trying to pull meat from bone. Surprised, despite my suspicions, I puled my hand away, sucking air in through clenched teeth and muttering feline-directed obscenities at the same time.

Stein looked at me with bewilderment in his eyes; eyes that said, "What? What did I do?" He had no idea he had hurt me, or if he did, he certainly didn't care. Chances are pretty good that either scenario could be true. After all, he is a cat and as a long-time cat owner and cat lover, I should have known better.

In that moment of mild shock and moderate physical pain, I felt something else. Hurt. Not the cat-tooth-tearing-through-flesh physical hurt, but emotional hurt. My feelings were hurt. Here Stein and I had shared this bond all over the house and the minute we get into the bedroom, he tears into me. How rude.

Is it weird that I allowed a cat to hurt my feelings today? I suspect it had nothing really to do with Stein; however, he was the metaphor or messenger of my emotions. It's not so much that the cat turned on me for rubbing his belly. They do that. What hurt me was that we had developed a relationship, however brief it was and none of that mattered to Stein. He felt he had cause to take a bite out of me, so he did. How many times has this happened to me with people? Probably more times than I could count.