trying to be

To roar, break, crash and thunder
like the clouds above
and let loose
what roils under
this skin too thin
to contain the blood
that looks to pound
against you

To be bright pink
not bloody bruised brown,
burnt, stubbed and rubbed
into the ground

To be rash
And willing to scratch
dreams hiding under scabs
And let them run freely
or float away like ashes
left to the wind

To be anything but quiet
stoic and contemplating
constantly placating
the urge to smash and run

reluctantly relieved

The heat warns of a meltdown
but I’ve knelt to its promises before
only to rise thirsting for a storm
of biblical proportions
It’s what it will take
to squelch this desire
for more than you can give

The clouds hang lower
than my expectations
for a revelation
to relieve this burning
But the sky raises only
a pacifist wind
resigning me
to rescind my declarations
and settle for
a gentle
cooling off

erroded

I’ve twisted tendons
and callused my soles
from searching to meet you
on softer terrain
I’ve tripped up my words
and torqued my soul
from trying to meet you
on higher planes

But you like to lie
close to the ground
to limit perspectives
to single use views

taper expectations
to scraps of paper
thrown clear of anticipation
And any yearning
they may birth
crawling, trawling
scraping up traces
that may promise more
than what has been earned.

So I’ll tear up my efforts
useĺessly sown
in barren dirt
devoid of worth
beyond burying hurt
And never again
set sights or foot
on this trodden plain

waiting

I want nothing more
than the possible
opportunity
for chance
and coincidence
to converge
into the unexpected
All that
you took
when you went away

fading

If you had died
I would have lied 
erased dull facts
to keep intact
the effigy I built
on faulty stilts
but you went away
and every day
I force fuzzy edges
to the middle
so I can fiddle my focus and find
some new detail
to impress my dreams
that lately only stream
repeats of chances gone by

that last declaration

You’re a hiccup
a glitch
a prickly itch
I make a last ditch effort
to scratch
But that was the last
phrase, lost in praise of
the last phase
the last breath
held and exhaled
my last affirmation
my last exhaultation
in mock exasperation
A concise expression
of my frustration
at all that could never be
So I’m forced to resort
to self-preservation
and grudgingly decree
Yes, I was only joking

it’s not okay, I’m not alright

It’s not okay I’m not alright
I cringe and churn
throughout the night
I dread seeing
what I can’t touch
And the floods
of senses that come
rushing more intense
than the best of days

Startled and feverish
I push blankets away
And sit up ready
to hold images at bay
that show me all
I want will stay
out of reach

It’s not okay and I’m not alright
But I’ll make it through this night
I’ll wring and let my sorrow dry
and fold those wishes in a pile
Knowing that beyond these lines
lies only time
that waiting will not fill
But still I’ll try
with all my might
To fix my sight
on what is true
Though all my thoughts
run back to you

the supple one

I guess I’ll always be
the supple one that gives
that rages and rants
then bends and forgives

The one that states principles
up to which I can’t live
and sets goals I let slip
to make room for things
that need, that plead
that cry louder than me

That one that lets others
walk on free
though knowing they’ll never
come back to me

The one that tries
that gives all but her best
lest it fail to impress
or be seen

invisible

I can threaten you and hurt you
break apart all your frames
make you ask for forgiveness
as you run and hide in shame
But I cannot make you care

I can stand up to abuse
fight off adversity
turn labels into crowns
And dance at their absurdity

But am beaten by absence
starved through neglect
and faced against indifference
I’m as good as dead

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