The Joke

Good morning, I say. Ask how you are? You share a sorrowful story. My heart aches. You laugh. ... I wish you the sincerest of good nights. You shrug, say you’ll try. Sadness lingers on your words. I, reaching to comfort. You laugh. ... My pain, silly thoughts, frightened words hiding from sound’s crescendo, my … Continue reading The Joke

Active Rest

Ignore it Put your hands over your ears Close your eyes Retract into a turtle’s shell Hiding From conflict From love From pain From anything real What a waste of life Breathe and take a risk A turtle only wins the race if he comes out of his shell Choose a path and move forward, … Continue reading Active Rest

Walls

A stone wall reflection masks any shred of truth while loving souls’ arms grow weary, clinging to the chance of an honest word. Eventually grips weaken, hands falling away one by one. Now empty, the room where others stood leaving only you surrounded by the great cold walls you built. Your words, once inspired, now … Continue reading Walls

Wine

It soothes. Collapses protective walls of anger. Vulnerability I become. I sink into the memory of your face against mine, so close warmth is intertwined. Lips magnetized yet remain separate, fearing the loss of any last remnants of control. Regret laces each additional sip.

Fade

Shards of glass fall uneven to where the picture dropped Protection of the memory unintentionally lost The memory sits and fade is the air we breathe Not replenished not replaced due to the cost ... A still image unvisited again Due to the pain it incites in the heart Eventually swept away by something unknowledgeable … Continue reading Fade

Words

Summoned afloat theories of prosperous enigmas Reaching to grasp characteristics of these entities Drawn toward a force familiar yet confusingly unknown Intrigued by the path of these mysterious perplexities ... Travel is steep, uneven and sometimes unbearable Insurmountable obstacles appear at each benchmark crossed Maneuvering around the complacencies of set deterrents Can further push self … Continue reading Words

a writer’s dilemma

absorbed within a story intruder behind the curtain too far in to find escape unable to pull myself out I climb ever further in until I am nothing more than the teller of the narrative my own story shrinking into oblivion no longer relevant so that this person's story can come to life

Untitled

I tripped backwards And as the falling fear took hold Your arms caught me Your voice reminded me Falling can be what saves you As long as you don’t let the ground stop you.

Mercy

Confused gentle eyes yearn for an explanation. Motherly arms wrap around him cradling him into place, as lying whispers reassure him it will be okay. ... The solemn executioner takes his trusting arm, injecting the poison into his pulsing vein. ... Wanting to believe it’s a serum of renewal, she is shocked awake by his … Continue reading Mercy