Me, Myself, and I

It is clear that I am not the same person I was last week
Let alone last year
Facing different hurdles
Yet carrying the same fears
I don’t want to let go of the people
That once lent their voice to my head
For it seems I’m just stuck with myself instead

I don’t care much for my company
As I try to ignore my own thoughts
All the time spent trying to leave myself alone
It seems all of it was for nought
But it is clear to me that I won’t be the same person in a week
Let alone next year
Trying to be something more
Than just another rotating gear
There will be a time when there is a me
That is no longer me
And he will look back in introspection
On the person I wanted to be
And with any luck, it will offer a new perspective
He might miss what once was
Or hopefully love what he became
Because however many times I change
I never want to be the same

There are days where I get jealous of me, myself, and I
That I don’t get to experience the good yet to come
Or relieve the good that has already gone by
But I would rather be someone different
Every single day of the week
Then forever be someone
Who was too afraid to speak up
And only saw a world that was cold and bleak 

It is clear to me that I am not the same person I was last week
Let alone last year
But that is what it means to learn and to grow
No matter the person that was once in your mirror
Through the hurdles, the hardships, the fear –
Knowing that on the other side, there will always be a better version of you to appear.

The Passage of Time

The passage of time means little to me
Short passing waves of relativity
Flash hot in a second
Then leaves as soon as it goes
Leaving me slightly more weathered
Like a stone constantly caught in the midst of the ocean’s throes.

Time at all means little me
Morning to night or dusk to dawn
The crash and return of the sea
It never ends anyway – for I am but a moment caught in the tangle
Of what is, what may, and what will never be

Time was never time at all
Until it finally got its grip on me
She came into my life
And now time is all I see
A lifetime with her in my arms
Every year to pass by
Every minute I feel –
Because only the time spent with her is time that feels real

Whether years gone by in a rush
Or every second felt as it slows to a crawl
Whenever I’m with her, I want to feel it all
A life spent beside her is the only time I see
And that’s the only time that matters to me

The Thin Air on the 30th Story Penthouse Balcony

After-hours
Night time air grows thin
She’s left in the bedroom
Finishing her fourth glass of gin
There’s too many stars around
Yet not enough light
And this city that burns
Is far too bright
I could wait forever
For her to return to me
But her mind is caught up in a tangle
Of what her eyes may never see
And her hands get so shaky 
Trying to take her nightly pills
There’s too much anxiety
For the Klonopin to kill
She tries to sleep but the shadows are far too tall
The light stays on the bedroom until he finally decides to call
But the room is so high
He’s just trying to do the same
And the wind slaps his face
Trying to get him to see his shame
But he’s caught up in the moment
She’s drunk and barely conscious
And he’s flying and hardly anxious
She cannot move any further
So he falls into the sky
In that thin night time air he goes
He can almost hear her cry
As he finally sees what lies below

Winter

A poem.

Winter is never really Winter at all
When it’s still seventy degrees outside
And a friend is never really a friend
If in them you are unable to confide
I’d embrace the cold
if it would ever rear its dark, wet, melancholic head
Instead I’m fighting with myself
to take a shower and get out of bed
I’d take the wind chill
if it only meant that I’d finally be rid of you
But in Texas we don’t get Winter
And I still don’t know what to do.

The Raging of the Storm

For Celena.

Too many words can be spent
On what’s better off unsaid
The same repetition of anxieties
The same hurricane raging in my head
Years flash by, leaving me uneasy –
Still looking at the path winding beside me
And fearing how unforgiving it can be to believe

But like ocean crashing over centuries
Washing the earth away in its tide
You fell over me
And made quiet my mind
The skipping of songs and the why and why-nots
You’ve calmed the worries that rage like storms
And you’ve remained in my thoughts

An anchor in the bay
Your love at the shore
A haze of days
I want you still just a bit more
Far too long I’ve focused
On those roads left unlit, unmarked on the map
Praying that someone else would take the first lap

Never did I think
I even had one more choice
Easy to scream
But not in my own voice
You’ve washed over me
Made quiet the storm
Years of fears and curled-up pain
I hardly even know what for
I looked to the horizon
I stood on the quiet shore
And there you stand with me –
The storm raging no more.

The Sun at 8 PM

Reaching, outpouring
Wanting to forget about never knowing
Falling or sleeping
Or dreaming of being awake
I can’t find someone to give back
All this regret I continue to take
Wake me up
Before I go under
I want to remember the way
You looked up at me in wonder
There’s silence in the trees
And a lack of air at night
And no matter what medication i take
Nothing I stick inside me feels right
All the depressive
Without a manic to be found
I reach for your hand
But i’m not safe
when you’re around
And across my eyes
There’s a forest burning
They all cry for help
Because the earth keeps on turning
I don’t think they get the monopoly
Humans have on hate
Because even with loss
They just want to get away
So the sun melts
And you walk out the door
And at long last I remember
That you weren’t there anymore
There’s been years since your touch
And the trees are now ash
And when I get a little better
I’m just close to another crash
But in the cinders and dust
From that old wood
Life will rise again as it should
Yet only in a dream
Will you come to me
And my life is always fleeting
Just as it should be

Here We Go Again

Here we go again
No pencil to paper
But flesh to screen
Letting out streams of unbroken consciousness
In no new way then what was done before
But the writing gives no way to myself
My scrawl of ink scratching across some old notepad, no –
Instead across tepid electronic keyboard
And cold glass screen
Is there any of me
In what I do not touch?
Is there any emotion
In the places I do not reach?
Here we go again
Attempting to find
To feel
But it feels so empty and cold
And gives away none of emphasis I’d want to show
And so it’s all for show
Here we go again
Attempting to find
Trying to begin.

Reception in the Middle of Nowhere

(watchtower)

Is she always there
Standing over me
Watching as the seasons change
Over some sleepy, wondering sea
Across her face and beneath her eyes
Is always the same wistful gaze
Reflections floating like young waves
Crashing just to show their size
The air gets dry
As the music grows dreamy
Synth sounds and electric emotions
As my head gets heavy beneath me
Roads pass by
And signs grow far out of distance
The radio changes with the reception –
Before we hit the chorus
And I sit looking out the rearview mirror
The radio tower lights blinking at me
Like a watch tower searching for a signal
And I wonder
If I might’ve left it on the interstate
And that’s why the music sounds so abysmal
And the static that crackles is its own accusatory finger
Blaming me for not trying harder
To get it back

Shattered Glass

The wind howls louder still
Reaching for the empty heart
Of someone who never got their fill
Of a life that has yet to start
All of those hopeful flames
Dancing in such a cold, dark room
Ever so reluctant to respond to the change
We forget that we aren’t the same
Despite our matching tombs

So open your lungs
And breathe in
All these shards of shattered glass
Left in the future
From the pieces of our broken past
Breath out
All these shards of shattered glass
When we all stand alone
Who will be left to last?

Soak in the left over memories
And face the mirror
See the man you built
Out of the anger of all that you couldn’t achieve
Did you hear that it all comes crashing down?
Like the missed notes
Of your favorite love song
It’s going to come back around –
Despite the coughing and blood in your breath
We know the lost will eventually be found

So open your lungs
And breath in that shattered glass
No falling water can cleanse
What moves so fast
Breath out all that shattered glass
The pain will lose its edge
Though the scars always last
And while you lie sleeping
And I’m lost in my head
I’ll gather up all that shattered glass
Left behind on all those roads I’ve yet to tread

Over the Shore

Everyday I hear the story
that you loved me
like I loved you
everyday just another story
of what’s to come next
and what was before me
trying to keep my head above water while the storm rages on
I see the misguided direction all around
as I try to walk before I crawl
but I knew that you were never there at all
we could dance for days
on the cliff of what would have
over the rocks of what never should have
but I don’t want to look back and see –
I just want to go back to the shore
and believe that was it for me
as my regrets stand tall

And if we fall
will you be here at all
to see me at the end
of this cliff
of the day
at the hall
would you dare say a word
for fear of what would come next
everything at once
or not a thing at all
rest assured
I wouldn’t lift my head
so you couldn’t tell if I heard you
so we could go back without the embarrassment
of things better left unsaid
but could you let it be
those foggy mirrors
windows through which you see me
let the sun set on this day
take your bag and drive away
there’s not a thing for us to say
to change
what was
never there
at
all