A long and arduous journey…getting to the bottom of words.
those that are remembered
those that I have written down
those jumbled in sleepy positions…only to waken us with cold sweat.
One has to be curious…have my sentences…changed my world?
I pitch a tent, repeatedly, at the godforsaken, blasphemous, bolted door.
But words never take off her shoes…
she never promises to stay.
My words rush out in a horribly, organized, chaotic…state.
Massive…this war on word!
I shove letter upon letter onto an empty, paper plate.
And, my compromised, composition, kneels shoulder to shoulder at the church of lost faith.
cool dampness fills the air…
attended by a lack of dreams…
a lack of care.
misogyny has shut the lights off to a tiny world.
these are the days, no one will want to remember.
lone docks, lone chairs…
baskets of all types…
with their own kind of despair.
have i been, kind today?
have i not judged?
my own private nudge!
minus the semantics.
a lone dock…
a lone chair…
a ticket holder at the bigoted fair.
Love…an open door! It may appear ajar. Yet, it never completely shuts!
My love speaks to me in a tone that only she and I know.
No skirted words…
No ribbons and bows…
Just a voice that leaves me feeling less alone.
I wonder how she understands?
How she knows?
I am slumbering…not quite sleeping…
And, there lies an insecurity of never feeling as, friend or foe.
Thread bare like a worn carpet…
Had been my heart.
Missing pieces to a missing link had been my start.
On a familiar night’s sleep, I thought it only fair to let her know…
Awoken from wondrous sleep…
my love spoke…
“it’s the middle of the night…Come morning we can talk! Until then, let your demons go!”
On the stairway to self-preservation.
An allotment of goods.
A brace, some pills…none with thrills.
All rainbow arrays of impediments.
Difficult to imagine a day not perfumed by my self imposed…handicaps.
With a suitcase of vertigo in hand.
I travel the stairs, everyday, often with dismay.
I daydream about what it is I am attempting to avoid.
But that only depresses me.
Provides an income, where I can become further annoyed.
I can hold to self-doubt and pretend it is not the germ ridden handrail…
that it is.
However, my ignorance may kill.
It also allows me to live.