Posts tagged ‘sorrow’

May 17, 2017

reinventing the wheel

adulting is a non-stop everything, everywhere and always. no more mac-n-cheese naps with mommy and mr. rogers. keep the bathroom open. listen for the monitor. wake up early, that’s late. eat later, after the feeding. get used to it. dont try.
try not to complain. the heat will turn up. the cold will come. the furnace will die. never really had AC, so… the bills will grow higher in a pile until they start to call your phone from unknown numbers that look familiar. growing. like your gray hairs. like your thin patience. like your elongated nose and drooping ears. coffee stained teeth black holes between. like the grass when you let it go for 2 weeks. and still, humans turn to antique glass. fragile to the touch, sagging at the bottom, blemished for worth. thicker and distorted. probably gravity we blame. and the wheels will stop. and the wheels will fall off. kick them tho. be ready to get down and dirty and fix it, even if you aren’t a pro. that’s how it goes. a new something for you to find a new way to fix a new something. reinvent the wheel why don’t ya? –for gods sake. or try to imagine a time when and where things get much easier and you grow softly younger and everyone thinks positively the same, that they are happy too… and you can keep your wisdom at that.

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October 31, 2014

Small Parts of Us

Balled tissue found in my pocket,
Crumpled, asymmetrical too,
Holding browned stained spatter,
Amongst dried tears of proof.

Discovered in seldom worn jacket,
Once you were tucked deep inside;
Producing contents as pure magic,
Tiny parts in my mind come alive.

Last I wore you to a wedding,
Then we heard passing bad news.
I was standing dressed in all black,
Together we were singing the blues.

I tucked you away just safely,
For another day to come;
I found you on this morning (for instance),
Now, I’ve been struck dumb.

Little things we keep, held on to so tight,
Parts of us small, which make up our lives.

June 23, 2014

__Pizza

__Pizza,

For trauma
For party
For hunger

-Just pizza

I am addicted to pizza…

It’s an excessive fixation

And:

I think I’ve had a slice of pizza
For every situation I’ve been in.

July 30, 2012

Read this in September 2007

A door shuts.

She walks up.

Look, stare.

No big deal.

The temperature is nice, but it holds no entendre.  

Shuffling towards one another, precarious bags in hand.

The last time.

The only time.

The most important thing to remember.

This time.

Scanning the horizon for a comet; hoping, praying that this moment you share is eternity.  

What was it like again?

Like:

The calls.

The empty promises.

5 years of love.

We maligned each other, both, but what of it now?

It is really unimportant, because we are a single subject.

Experiences are better when they are experienced with a loved one, but I doubt it counts when leaving relations.  

Hint:

Hint of depravity; a social entity with no other facet.

Black and white; straight-line logic.

Weed out the grey-

This is the only way.

What happens today, happens.

Haven’t checked the planner in weeks, time keeps moving on and no one notices.  

What we feel:

It stays.

We don’t.

You envision what might happen, but after that moment there is nothing.

Left with just that.

-Just that and a thought-

Rigidly stuck to a plan, over and out.

We talk, yeah…

10-4, over and out.

We used to touch, take in, and cop feels.

Now that is in a field, buried under years of dust, dirt, and debris.

All stuff.

What was.

All that lot of what doesn’t really change or affect, the change in effect.

Effective, but… f u c k it.

All that confidence for nothing, this can’t be trained.  

An Eternal embrace, and then its over.

A car rolls out, and away in the distance.

You are in a car of your own but its crashing.  That car is your mental status.

You stand, taking in the sound, sight, and smell of things.

Hold your breath in deep, sigh, its a nice night anyway.

The sun may look beautiful, the sky may be a brilliant blue.  Evening.  Clouds, many colors of the spectrum float above an all important sinking orb.

It has no meaning to you.

It has no meaning to you.

You think of one thing.

We may not be this close again.

Distant, like traveling abroad, but there is a line.

Still, the line is drawn.

Stated.

Overstated.

Underestimated.

Lost it.

Nothing could make it better.

You can’t fix the best.

-Winning the lottery, even success-

Nothing is better.

The loss is deeper than either.

You were a king, looking over your land-missing all the wonderful assets that rested just below your perch.

Laughing, you drank and disparaged your own, only to be lost and alone without them.

Criticizing the smallest flaw, but praying for its return after being bettered for aesthetics.

The insignificance of normalcy; detailed happenings that will play out, over and over again in your head.

As a pall-bearer walking toward stones, as the last conversation unfolds.  There will be a taste in your mouth. That is when you will know something is happening.

You understand.

In the pit of your stomach.

Now you understand.

On the verge of vomit.

The traces of trash, and ash, of self you left strewn about the room.

They loom.

Just things you don’t forget.

Tears stop, and after, your grace is replaced by a void.

Shadows that were, will hang at dusk and exist at sunrise as you were.

Sitting there, reminding you, waiting.

Lights-out will be a solemn and silent affair when it is realized that you are not there.

The walks we took, it is just me.

The places we would frequent, it is just me.

The movies, the books, and the lakes we sat, now, truly, it is just me.

So far from home, but you are at yours.

Eyes-look at the eyes.

Hard to focus on the details again.

Blackened sockets.

Squinting-shaking, failed attempt at holding it together.

Deep breaths again, wishing for pure-raw yet tamed emotion.

Animal instincts, but animals don’t  shed tears.

Green eyes, lit brilliantly with curiosity and surprise outlined with a fine dark pencil.

Clear and honest inside.

Waitress-“You are who you are.”

Me-“I know.”

She witnessed.

Something you don’t see regularly.

And it is goodbye.

Like I will be right back.

Scary movie.

Like see you later.

Abduction in the early 90’s.

Lay together in the sack.

Special features.

Quick retriever.

What we had, be happy for.

At times forget.

Everyone tells you things are better off.

But you can’t forget.

Everyone doesn’t deal with this daily.

Time flies when you are having fun, but the clock doesn’t run when what we had is done.

Solitude, solid chair, Big Ter, fixated, and agitated.

Excited, every minute.

Inching closer.

Closer to the inevitable.

I hope we don’t die, never to meet again.

My friend.

My friend.

I have done nothing like this before.

They call, they say they miss what we had.

Its different, as much as we don’t want to realize.

The change is noticed and what is noted most is melancholy.

The phone keeps ringing.

Fit for folly.

Smile, ride out on the punch line.

Nothing to smile about, apparently, close to a breakdown.

A smile is a frown if it is practiced.

Watching movies on the couch, playing solitaire in thought.

We used to lie together, love, fight, discuss, and borrow each other to never give back.

But you do take that with you when you leave.

But what you got might make you sore.

Even remembering as you walk through the grocery store, like she was right here, recently.

Chores to keep eating.

No longer yours.

No escape.

Might make it hard to swallow.

Might make the memories flood in.

New friends, new times, new experiences, but what about us?

The end is like the beginning; like before we didn’t meet, like after we don’t meet again.

What is to miss if it didn’t exist?

And I miss this moment, and the next, and the next, and the next….

And you…

And I remember the color of the car driving out and away with you in it.  I could smell fall coming as the wind blew against my   face.  I knew I was in for a cold winter.  I thought…