I’m seeing someone.
She knows a lot about me,
more than I know myself.
I’m finding out how hard it is
to give honesty, such a lonely word.
It really does wring your tears out.
But there are more where those came from
in these scenes of absolution, validation, and condemnation.
Category Archives: mental health
The doubtful King
Sober Second Thought’s
buckled down, still,
on his moldering throne.
Wand waving,
face saving,
keeping the faith.
Watching, with detachment,
nervous amusement,
and what’s close to despair,
as things begin to twitch
and soulless eyes
begin their backward roll.
A rainy day
Tie-dye me a shirt
the purple and ochre of bruise.
I’ll salt it away in a drawer,
and save it for a rainy day
like this.
If only you knew what’s inside of me now,
you wouldn’t want to know me,
somehow.
The Difference
Clarice awakes,
but her dream abides.
Don’t be offended when she speaks pleasantries,
or not at all.
What you might hear is only a placeholder
for a short story of ten thousand pages.
She’s seen a distant horizon, but can’t get there.
Knows the true names of our colours,
and how to ask questions of God.
In the saga of her sleep,
charging. Unresponsive.
Carpe Diem
So.
Not for a while now
have I felt that I could
point the way,
suggest, show interest.
So, let’s seize this day that’s given.
Let’s walk by the water.
A movie and popcorn.
The second hand store.
Please, take my hand.
Are you still mine?
Come with me.
I promise.
The Exile
Clarice walks above and below us.
Lives in a dream,
exiled from this plane by an unknown puppeteer.
For her, great fears
that would kill one of us,
but high insights and ecstasies too.
And now, she melts in silence.
What did you see, Clarice?
What did you see?
Aremyfeetofftheground 