You should have
You should be
You should do
… so much more.
… to be this.
… why can’t you?
… all too big to fail.
I’m the curator of my own potential
The guardian of my mistakes and missteps
I collect each one and display it carefully
Showcasing my failures like trophies
While the trunks where the victories are stored
Seem to grow lighter, the walls of these rooms
Are covered in shelves heavy with defeat
It’s no wonder I can’t breathe, can’t move
My lungs are thick with the dust of longing
Of “maybe”, “if only” and “why”
My heart burns with the desire to be rid of this monument
These walls that imprison my freedom
My future, my light
I set fire to the dry volumes and brittle documents
That mar the beauty of this place which once was my sanctuary
Watch the flames lick the edges of pages that held no joy
Only regret and sorrow
Hear the fat crackle and subtle hiss as the fire burns down this cellar of what will never be
And creates breathing room
Space for me to open the latches on these trunks filled with hope and determination
Time to construct a living memory
A future that begins in this moment
A life built on love and joy
Filled to bursting with that same fire which burns
In my heart.
Long story short
I want to be loved
Short story long
I don’t want to be hurt again
Or made a fool of
Or give way more than I get back
Or find out that I’m not as special as I thought I was
But I’m willing to put myself out there
Open my heart
Laugh at your jokes
Look into your eyes
Talk to you for hours
About every little thing
And nothing big at all
Go on long drives to nowhere
Listen to you complain about work
All for the opportunity to feel
That’s my story.
Never picture perfect
Tousled and uneven
Corkscrewed and curlicued
Shaggy or shorn
Or blatantly blonde
Tamed and twisted
Or let lioness loose
Tenuous tugs through the tangles
The texture is pleasure personified
The sheer weight of it commands attention
My crown is truly my glory
My light. My beauty.
Told in a multitude of ways and waves
The image is indelible
my thick, unruly, coarse mane
magnificent entity unto itself
Sweet sweet loving.
(All these years
All these tears
Why can’t I get this shit right?)
The echo resonates
A consistent heartache
No relief in sight
I know there’s more beyond this now
But knowledge is no balm
I await nighttime and its calm
Even as my mattress
Holds me hostage
Weighed down by swirling thoughts
Recollection of words caught
Between lips that lie effortlessly
Of compliments to my personality
Time after time after time
I am soothed by nothing
The darkness holds no wonder for me
It does not cradle me from harm
It does not cover me in adulation
The moon mocks me
When my most fervent dream
Is to be held in such esteem
That words would not be necessary
To be loved
To be loved
Yes, to be loved
In the desolate hours
Oh to be loved…
of fantasy out of crushed dreams
is the way
with the reality
of her inadequacy
loom large over
the streets of her consciousness
Why is there so much traffic here?
All roads leading
This all a facade
This can’t be my life
She thinks as she wanders
desolate and dusty streets
is all encompassing
but the buildings
keep rising out of the ashes
is no comfort
Creating looming shadows
at every corner
Misshapen and menacing
She carefully navigates
the feelings of fear
And slowly finds her way
The buildings will stand as
to her true strength
She opens her eyes
To the sun
They all come tumbling down.
i wish we could go back.
i remember our very first chat.
it was a friday.
you were on a train coming from nyc.
i was sitting at my desk in my office way past the time for me to leave.
you invited me over to eat that very first night.
i declined… but blew off my friends the next day and came to see you…
can i say best first date ever?
you were so very sweet with me.
it was january and cold.
you rubbed my feet. we watched law and order, ate pizza and talked.
you told me how you didn’t want to be “just friends” with someone you cared about.
you made me smile.
you touched my face and reached right through me and touched my heart in the same instant.
i lay on your chest. we kissed and kissed for what seemed like hours.
we cuddled on the sofa.
it got late and I stayed over.
we cuddled more and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
in the morning you brought me orange juice.
and fed me strawberry yogurt from your spoon.
i thought it was the single sweetest act i had ever witnessed from a man i just met.
i think i fell in love with you in that moment.
you filled me up. the thought of you grounded me.
you made me think. and feel. and laugh.
you still do.
i will always be your greatest supporter.
your biggest fan.
and as close a friend as you allow me to be.
i am not searching for perfection…
just a man whose imperfections mesh with mine.
for a time i hoped that man was you.
and for a time i knew it.
how do you miss a chance at happiness if you never take the time to find it?
April is National Poetry Month.
NaPoWriMo is a writing challenge. Write one poem per day for the entire month of April.