8/18/14

Can I still sleep in your home tonight?
By all means, meet your friend and stay out as late as choose.
But can I be in your bed when you do arrive?
I will fall asleep before your car pulls in to the driveway,
But when you crawl into bed I may ask you to tell me a story.

9/14/14 (hard fall)

The Changing of Seasons

(More than anything, I want my seasons to be my own.)

9/16/14

It is difficult to write things down. Sentences fail to formulate; ideas and thoughts do not relate to the subject matter; the pronouns feel strange. This is an old story with a new context - a beautiful context. I care, therefore I am heavy. And this is very heavy to carry.

10/1/14 (Cabaret)

After the show and Elsas, 
you lay prostrate on your sisters red couch.
I stare out your window at the window 
decorated in shutters across the street. 
Many worlds collide
and shatter
and mend. 

10/14/14

The clock on your microwave glares at me
as I lift myself up and down
tip toes and heels
feeling all parts of my bare feet.
The clock glares in green 3's.
I unplug the damn thing.
Continue your story...

Your mind begins to quietly hum
between my chin and shoulder
breath and beard
feeling limbs under sheets.
The legs I walk on twist around yours.
I inhale.
Dream...

(babies, falling, fixing, houses, shrinking, theater, distance, friends, storms, strangers, weddings, jesus, running, running, running, running)

We lay like boulders in the snow
and the alarm yells
first mine, then yours, then mine
bickering.
I thought I told time to shut it!

11/12/14

to search.
verb.
its the fight i feel.
where do my accomplishments fit in?
noun.
noun.
noun.
pronoun.
pronoun.
will i accomplish.
or is "to accomplish?"

just another aspect of my "search."

i envy those who are stable.
how easy they make it to pass in and out of days.
life is expected.
life comes to those stable souls
like wind gusts through the seasons.
intrinsically.

Hard Dream I

This morning you were sleep talking about
missing people.
You called them by their first name. (I do not know them.)
But I could see through your closed eyes
sadness.

Hard Dream III

It was sticky and the air was thick that afternoon. The back of my neck ached from holding myself upright on the long walk to the meeting spot. I had the drugs I was selling crammed into my damp fist. I met the familiar couple on the corner we previously decided on. My trying-so-hard-to-be-casual greeting was returned with sarcsam and bitter words of aggression. Their words scrambled together until all I could hear was the pulsing of blood in my ears.  

I fell to my knees and covered my face because I might have heard one of them say, "Get on the ground and don't move!" 

With my head buried, my blood stopped moving. 

"What the hell am I doing?" 

You showed up behind me and told them to scram. I didn't expect you to be around today.  

We walked through various neighborhoods until I was able to loosen my shoulders; until the drugs were gone and I could hold your hand. We strolled the streets until the next day... and then decided to just keep walking, because there was nothing else to really do. 

In the evening of the next day, we slowed our walk as the sun set and the summer air chilled. Fire flies sparkled in grand oak and maple canopies above us. The houses on this street were mansions - brick and beautiful. Outside of the homes were rows of white chairs and small crowds of people  dressed in their best satin and sheath attire. Couples walked down aisles of green grass, promised, and kissed. The crowds were crying and cheering in intervals. Some of them were throwing rice or confetti. 

As I admired my colorful surroundings I felt the blood inside of my body again. My face went numb. My body went numb. I clenched my eyes tightly. All I could feel was my blood and it felt like winter. 

(Time passes)

I wake up on the shore of Lake Michigan, surrounded by friends and family. I can feel my body again, embraced in your arms. You are smiling at me with your eyes. My hands reach to encompass your endearing face. We hold each other with every part of our beings. The sun shines brightly from a giant fluffy white cloud and reflects off a gold band on my ring finger. After a million years, I turn and see happy, accepting faces. 

An alarm goes off.  I hold myself upright - on guard. My shoulders feel tense and my hands are  cramped. My thumb is rubbing the spot where the ring was.  I realize I am in a small apartment. I am alone and sweating under miss-matched blankets.