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The Poem No One Knows

Callosed toes on callosed feet
A poem no one knows
Walking down the street
Longing lines and winding rhymes
Written on my face
In a language no stranger could read
A coded journal kept just for me.
If you listen close, I’ll read it out loud
Over coffee, while watching the stars
While I sing in the shower,
While we make love in the dark.
Listen closely to the silence
of a Saturday afternoon.
Those moments scream parts of me,
And whisper others.
But the greatest parts are in my eyes,
In my song,
In the poem no one knows.

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A Chosen End

6 Friends. 

6 friends and Robin Williams. 

You’d think it might get easier, but it doesn’t. You just understand it more. 

So, I’ll write your name on my heart and put another tic on the chart of life. 

6. It seems like a lot. 

I’d ask why, but I get it. 

Because every day is hard. Sometimes your so deep in your hole, you can’t see the sky, and the walls crumble beneath your fingers and feet everytime you think you’ve found a good grip to hold on, and you and your whole world come crashing back down to the bottom. 

Sometimes the world is a dark place. Full of war and terror and dying children, alone and hungry with no memory of real life or real love. 

Sometimes it seems like everything is going wrong and you can’t get ahead. 24 years playing the game of life, how did I end up here? Or there? Or alone? Or surrounded by all these shitty people?

Why don’t I love the things I used to love? What am I supposed to do with my life? Where am I going? What’s the next step? What is the fucking point? 

Everytime I carve another notch in the bedpost of friends lost, I get to close to not being able to see the light. 

Remembering that living the adventure, feeling the pain, see the shit, loving the unloved. Remember, that is the point. 

The point of this plane is to love and feel pain. Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon. Don’t leave the us behind so quickly.