We’re all a little bit broken, from time to time
When the bad days stack up, like the dimes
We don’t have to pay the bills, we stay behind
Wishing for a break, praying for peace of mind
Anxiety rings louder when another bill arrears
And we dig our way out or dig down, deeper
All hearts beat, despite daggers of despair
Always, dearest remind me, handle with care
5.25.21 - Watched you leaving before you walked away
Lost in places we’re supposed to feel safe
In dark spaces, time spent tempting fate
Looking for despair in low corner of self-hate
Dreading looming disasters in nights so late
Marriages tested before honeymoon phases
Lost count of worthless evenings, wasted days
Miles between pillows, bridges retracted up
Dreaming of only one person’s touch, so much
I see it before you do, then, and always
Wander far, through unfamiliar hallways
Prefer distraction since it’s easier to avoid
Anyone’s company is better than noise
Starved for attention and unladen affection
Disappeared for days, unanswered questions
Alone in our empty bed, math adds up poorly
Ain’t real if it takes a drug for you to love me
9.4.20 - letters without addresses #1
Hey there, Psyche. Damn, I know it’s been forever
Decades passed in silence, then only a shitty letter
Though they say an asshole never really recovers
This ass hopes you found far better friends and lovers
Whisky brown hair, brilliant smile, the fairest blue eyes
Sharper and brighter than all the stars in Southern skies
Just one second, this ain't one of them pining love songs
More a long-waiting tattered lists of souls I’ve done wrong
One bad night, drunkenly convinced I’d been strung along
I became another toxic creep, another entitled hard-on
Flashes of trembling hands, tears took up shop in my head
But I blacked out enough to not remember what all I said
When really you needed a best friend, not a jealous loser
Instead, I walked away, wanting only to not exist to you
It’s been years since then, paid in therapy reckonings
Took a while to learn, romance starts by looking within
But still, what’s worse, digging up the past or living lies
What hurts, late-offered amends or broken goodbyes
For a victim, how long makes it too late to apologize?
Male-privileged obsession is just intimidation in disguise
So, years later, here’s the truth that only matters now
The important thing I hope I one day get to say to you
If allowed, I have random chance and courage to do
Psyche, you deserved better than I ever gave to you
My selfish words and actions burned our bridges
There aren’t any good reasons you should forgive
’Sides, justifying turns into gaslighting before long
I’ll move along, just sorry that I hurt you. I was wrong
5.30.20 - Pandemic Poetry #0 - Back Porch Booms
Are you having trouble tonight?
Sitting on a tired wood porch
listening to concussive ques
Two drum beats before a fight
wondering if it’s fireworks or shots
Two horrible truths unleashed
in these burning city nights
Is it in your head, you wonder
ghosts and scars from a former life?
Is it real? The bag you pack
to bug out to the mountainside
Is it that time, or the moment to
step outside, despite the real threat
A virus that kills men in scores
Illuminating the true divide ‘tween
Left and the right, under hospital lights
I don’t know which path we’ll choose
so I listen to the crickets and booms
Watch the dog run ‘round the yard
”Lean in,” I tell you, “I figure we’re lucky.
We walk this road together. Way better
than living six thousand miles from you
We ain’t perfect, we ain’t right.
We wear the pain of disappointed lives
but I know we’ll face it together
side-by-side, guts or glory
brains or sly, I want to face it
all, with you by my side
*due to uncertainty on how to best utilize social media, I have elected to not include tags that might be needed for providing important information regarding the current crisis facing the world. In Atlanta, 2016. I was there and witnessed people peacefully marching for equality that has been promised for centuries yet never truly delivered. I hope we find a way through this and in the meantime, I’ll be here, listening, writing down stories. I would love to hear yours and share a few tears.