Open the Gate

When we met, the world was different and we were different in it. 

You had a life growing inside you and I felt as if I was the walking dead. Standing there on borrowed time waiting for it to run out. 

Your face seemed sad but had a glimmer of hope. Was it due to the baby you were yet to bare to the world? Was it the temporary respite you'd receive from the humdrum of work? Was it something else? 

You were younger, still are younger, than I. Looking at the world through a lens I can never see through. That of a young mother, that of uncertainty to the life your child will lead, a clouded future blurred by past pains and fears. 

That I could relate to, being in my own cloud of pain. A pain I wanted to keep to myself lest I foist it onto another. How could I share this pain with someone who was on the brink of something so grand as motherhood? How could I bring my sorrow and doubt and fear to someone who seemed to have their own and no want of mine? 

You told me that you looked my way and I was afraid. There I was on the edge of forever one foot hanging over the edge ready to plunge and there you were throwing me a lifeline. 

You couldn't have known the depths of my sorrow, the ache in my heart. You were driven by your own ache, an ache for companionship, an ache of lust, an ache of striking out with one's feelings since our lives are short and sometimes you need to risk the heartache for a chance at a full and exacting love. 

I let my pain and my fear speak to you. I had nothing to give. No heart, no future, no will even to live. I was ready to step off that ledge but I turned and saw you standing there once more. 

A young woman, a life inside ready to meet the world, a fear in her eyes, a small smile on her face. A face that was ready to hide at a second glance. Skin that was electrified by the most innocent of touch. A heart aching for someone, a heart aching for me. 

I couldn't fathom how she could look at me and see anything but a wretch putting on airs to hide the fact that his insides were crumbling away. Decay and rot had taken hold and a smile and a laugh were but feeble veils to screen the world from that reality. 

Perhaps love is blinding, perhaps she saw and didn't care. Perhaps in a world of woes and sorrows two people full of doubt find each other to try and bring about something new and bright and warm. 

I gave you time to reconsider, to let your passions wane, to let myself decide if living was what I wanted, if life was worth the pain. 

You had the child, he was beautiful, is beautiful like his mother. 

I held you before I held him. In my arms, in my heart. 

I wanted to show you and myself that life could be better if we let it be better, if we made it be better. 

You often spoke about not being good enough, how you'd end up alone. I didn't understand that thought at all. You were and are beautiful, smart, funny, determined, creative, strong willed, caring, and full of love to give those around you. 

You are also full of doubts and fears and sorrows, much like myself. But you need not hold onto those aspects when the others are so much more worth your energy. 

We have both found life renewed, even after all the bumps and bruises, cursed words, cold shoulders, and times apart. Life with another is never easy. It is full of loves and pains. 

We have both given ourselves up to one another to try and fight through that pain and fear. To find a solid ground so that we might stand together. 

You with your fears of standing alone. Me with my fears of wretchedness and death. 

We can let the world crumble below our feet or we can stand together hand in hand and build it up as one. 

The young woman I saw all those years ago has grown and become someone I'm sure she never expected she'd be. Strong, resilient, driven, ambitious. 

You are more than your pain, your fears, your doubts, your failures. You are so much more. 

I can't claim to always see it, when I can't see past my own failures. But I hope that you can. I hope that you can see yourself the way you deserve to be seen. 

I love you and I'm sorry. For being a wretch when you met me, for being a man with embedded doubts and fears about himself and the future. A man who was ready to step off the edge, that you unknowingly brough back from the brink. 

You are worth the world. 

Take These Hands and Make Some Use

 I often ask myself "Who am I?" to speak, to share, to voice my opinion. 

I realized today that I am no one, but that I can become someone. 

I've had the tools at my disposal to elevate myself to a place where my voice can be heard. 

I just need to use these tools to create that voice, to make the person worthy of speaking and sharing. 

Once that elevation has occurred then I will be able to answer that initial question of "Who am I?".

I will be an author, a thinker, a creator, a storyteller, a listener, a scholar, a scribe, and eventually a sage. 

If you strive for mediocrity you will always succeed, if you strive for success you will fail until you succeed. 

Will Well

 taken on the whole i can't reconcile my feelings about my life or the things that exist within it. 

there appears to be a blackhole where my soul used to be. i remember great pain existing deep in my chest that would pulse with each breath and drain my will. that has subsided but with that dismissal i'm left without other feelings. 

i used to rage or wax poetic or lament in these pages but that has become a lost art. 

i'm failing even now to replicate it in trying. 

what has stifled my thoughts and feelings? a dam on my heart? a clog in my soul? a desecration of my creative will? 

i long for love and loss and pain and pleasure. i long for nights spent wondering about the future. nights i hated in the moment, that i envy now in the present. 

flakes

The inkwell is dry.

What Do You Want From Me

Why after years and plenty of dismissals do you return to my thoughts? Entering my dreams and making feelings resurface. How did a blink of an eye turn into something that keeps returning over and over again?

Why am I paying any credence to any of these thoughts? I doubt they mean anything more than just regurgitating old feelings. Feelings that haven't been strong for almost a decade.

Is it the fact that the thought of you for so long was something I attached so much to? Is it because the prospect and the idea behind our chance meeting hold so much weight to my romantic idealist mind? The fact we met for the briefest of moments and weren't tied down by harsh realities until the moment passed?

The memory of that night is faded and warped by actions taken since then but I guess the underlying romance of it persists like a blinking light, the battery slowly dying, succumbing to the darkness around it.

I haven't wanted you in years nor do I believe that there would be anything for us if we were to meet again. But the dreams still come at the most random of times.

No contact for almost two years and yet.

It's annoying to say the least. I wonder if you'll persist inside me for the rest of my life. I wonder if all my lost loves will haunt me and taunt me. If you and a few others who've occupied such a large part of my heart will walk with me in my dreams forever.

I guess the hurt comes from not having any one of you walking with me while I'm awake.

Even after all this time? Always.

There are these memories inside my head. When I examine them I realize something strange about them. They aren't mine. They come from a life that I'm not leading, a life that was lost to me. Memories of a life I could have led but can't lead now. They come and go, they taunt me when I need them to leave me be. What can be done with them? I can't black them out with a permanent marker since the don't exist on paper. They aren't recorded on film and can't be cut or burned away. Without a foundation in existence they shouldn't be able to plague me like they do and yet...

I see a young face, not unlike my own, with a tinge of her. Her eyes, my hair, her smile, my nose. The contours shift from real to surreal as the image blurs. This person doesn't exist yet she haunts my memories. Playing and wrestling with her older brother. Sun in her eyes, wind in her hair. A tooth missing here and there. A smile as large as the love I have for her and her mother.

These aren't memories, you'd say. They are fantasies, fabrications, dreams, wishes, that won't come true. And to that I say, no. They are memories of a life I failed to lead. The version of me living right now was insufficient to acquire that life. My faults overshadow the faults of the other players in the scenario. The links were broken and all that remain are the memories.

The memories and a desire to come clean. To voice the blame which is held tightly to my chest. I want the weight of my failures to be lifted. There needs to be one last connection to let them know, to let her know, the guilt I feel. The guilt tied to those memories and the way things failed to be. How if I was a better version of myself, a healthier version, a stronger version, then the memories wouldn't be from somewhere else. They'd be tied to reality. To the waking hours, to the long nights, to the mornings, afternoons, and evenings shared with them.

No longer alone. With the ones I loved so dearly but was too weak for them. Not a day goes by that I don't lament my weakness. My inability to pull myself up and dust myself off and fight for that which I loved. But weaknesses are sometimes too difficult to overcome. Sometimes it seems best to push those away before the self-destruction destroys them as well. To save them from the pain of longevity. To save them from an all encompassing failure. To save them from a history repeating itself.

I've lost what I've loved most. Two things, equal in importance. The strong willed, confident, happy, proud, kind, empathetic, patient, love filled self that got lost in the darkness. And the one who loved me for all my faults, the one who loved me for who I was despite my failures. The who held me like I've never been held. The one who showed me there was hope for a future. The one who brightened my life with her smile, her eyes, her world. The one who was afraid things would repeat themselves from her own past. I never wished to replicate that in us. I failed in that and I'm sorry.

If I could rewind time, and be strong enough to weather the darkness, I'd have sought help. Got myself back to good, and sought to remedy our woes. Perhaps that time has passed us forever, perhaps it hasn't. I don't want to hold out if that life I have memories of is indeed gone with no possibility.

For now though my fears are still too strong. My life hangs on a thin string. I'm still seeking health and solace in myself before I try to fix what I broke with us. I can't have you repair me though I wish you could. I can't burden you with these woes, that are a lifetime in the making. I won't be selfish. I can't be selfish. You don't deserve that. When your own struggles are so heavy. Adding my own is unfair.

Things might change or they might wither away. I can't say. I'd rather not think on that now. I'll simply let the memories play on and hope for a day when they become real or die away.

I will always love you
There's no one else above you 

Only Death Awaits

I don't wish to burden those I love with my woes. I have many and they weigh more than I can handle. The logical thing would be to ask for help. And I've done as much but that help has only gotten me so far. It seems I need to start moving forward under my own power but I feel as if that power is lost to me.

I've lost my will to live. Seeing that my life will only be these woes over and over again. I wish to end my life and rid myself of them.

I've done things, I've made friends, I've had love, and I've done good, but that's not enough to keep me moving now. I've been in my own way for the majority of my life and now I see that the only way to get rid of that is to get rid of myself.

I know there will be those who mourn my death. I apologize for that. I don't want to hurt you, I simply want to end my own hurt.

I have become a stain upon my own life. A do nothing, with no future, with no capability for longevity and a failure time and time again.

The last one I loved is better off without me. The friends I have are better off without me. My family is better off without me.

I am nothing but a sack of meat with too many woes. Fear of failures that repeat again and again.

I've lost my willingness to try again. To start again. To live again.

As I wither away I contemplate my own death. How will I achieve this final failure? Since isn't that what suicide is? Succumbing to pain and disdain. Pain of life and disdain for oneself and the life they inhabit?

Not being able to overcome oneself to see a future. To walk the path. To care.

I've lost my desire to care. I've lost my willingness to strive for new heights. I've lost my will.

If it was possible I'd will my heart to stop beating. I'd switch my brain and body off like a light and turn to dust.

But that isn't possible so I must take more drastic measures. I must spill blood in one way or another. And cause great pain to end all pain.

My pain. My failures.

I am not worthy of the rewards I have been bestowed. I will never be worthy. So I must take myself out of the running.

I will end my life, one day. When, I cannot say. Sooner rather than later, at least I hope.

In Retrospect: The Finale

The past three years have been a whirlwind of ups and downs. It all started on the heels of the best summer of my life and has culminated in what I could probably say has been the worst year of my life. To go from such heights of feeling total and utter emotional fulfillment to a level of despondence that had the knife at my throat. To see all that I desired and loved wither away until all I could hope to desire was death. To still be reeling at the detriment of my own well being.

I have loved and lost much since that first drunken night expressing feelings that lead to nothing.

Well not nothing. Because of that confession I saw myself leave my family home to venture out on my own to be semi self sufficient. I made plans to create a life with someone and felt love spring anew.

Though all those plans and feelings and hopes have been consumed by the passing of time. No future existed with ties to those lines and because of the ultimate failure of the endeavor I feel bereft of the will to live beyond it.

I've been in a cycle of self consuming suicidal tendencies, anxious paralysis, and fear of loss. Too much of a coward to end it all and too much of a coward to make things better.

I feared that a year hence my last update things would be different. I could never have imagined that they'd be the same in so many ways. With these choices I feel like a hamster on a wheel.

Yet, things don't all remain. I lose with each revolution. I've lost friends and love. I've lost prospects for the future. I've lost my will to carry on.

Though that string has been weak for years. I've attempted to rebuild it with each passing day. With each new interaction. And in 2017 I felt I was going in the right direction. But damn it all if I didn't trip myself up in the process.

I wasn't crippled by a relationship. I wasn't lost in the depths of depression. I wasn't wishing for death. Until I made that fatal mistake. Those drunken words.

All ups since that day have been false positives. Leading me longer down this road of self destruction I thought I was off all those years ago.

I've sullied my haven and now I feel that is nothing that can bring me back from this self inflicted hell.

People are better off without me. Not the me they have in their minds, not the me they've known and come to love, the me that exists right now sitting in this chair lamenting life. A mentally crippled soul, courting death with each passing breath.

I love you but that love will only go so far.

Until The End

A life is like a book in a library every growing in bounds. More rows erected, more shelves built, more hallways dug out of stone to house all the stories of millions of lights burning in the void.

When the light of one life ends it doesn't blink out of existence. The stories of others let the light linger until their collective light is out. Some lights, lights of legends, burn even now. The original light having been snuffed out eons ago yet stoked by the hands of those that wish to keep icons blazing for future generations to have a glimpse at what was meant as "a good life".

Each pillar of light that stands the test of time, each beacon of humanity shines out the best of us...and the worst of us, for not all lights are an example of what to achieve. They are also a warning.

We must remember the examples around us and behind us to help illuminate the future we seek to create. All lights shine with a different hue but the shine with a purpose.

Don't let the lights go out, until the need for light is finally over. From now until the end.

One more

So close to the finish line yet it seems to retreat at ever passing step, every passing breath. All lines etched into my skin tell a story of repetition. A revolution waged against the past to vie for a place at the seat of tables wrought with the lost dreams and festering woes of past selves. Bones washed clean with the morning tides re-purposed as sign posts, pointing every which way except the direction for progression. Nothing need be said nor do words exist to express the level of fear and doubt and confusion related to journeys begun at the womb and left at the side of the road in a hurricane. Better to be swept up then to be nailed down to weather the passing seasons with a stoic expression. Tempering the mind through the fire of self immolation and ripping to shreds what's left as kindling for future endeavors. Dust remains. Nothing less nothing more.

Exit Sign

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don't come looking for me.

i hate to say no when it comes to those beautiful blue eyes

I've been wanting to say it for weeks now. I've been feeling the words dance on my lips and fly over my tongue but they stop before they escape. There is something different about the way I feel about you. As if I don't need to play that old trump card.

Words have always been said in a pleading manner, in an attempt to keep those around that I want to have around. As if my presence or who I am wasn't enough. That I needed to beg and plead to keep them with me by expressing my bleeding heart.

With you I know that I need not bleed myself dry and with that realization I'm at a loss.

Like you, I spend a lot of time in my head thinking, overthinking, and imagining how things will be.

I see us together, lights twinkling around us, snow falling softly. There is no sound, it has all drained away. There is only you and me. I'm staring into your eyes and nothing could take you away from me.

I need to give in to these feelings and let them actually sprout anew within me without reservations. I want to give you everything.

Hold Me Tightly

I don't understand this lack of inspiration.
It's as if without the existence of strife, I have nothing to write about.
My old muses have died, for better or worse.
Now I'm looking for a new light to shine upon the path.

Pain has been extinguished.
Love has sprouted again.
Ghosts are still haunting.
I wish the dark would end.

Waking Up

There is hope when you wake up to a new day. Seeing the mist of obscurity evaporate in the light of something new. I tend to hold candles until the wax all but melts away but I am trying to learn from these mistakes. May these new adventures leave me a little less scarred then the ones that came before it.

Northern Lights

I went into the wilds not to find a home, but to find myself. 

Now that I’ve found who I needed to find I can return home having learned the truth.

The truth that I will survive in this hell or the next.

That no matter the strife the strength inside me will persist.

No storm shall weather this stone to rubble or lift up these roots. 

I went in search of peace and found strength.

dial tone

I miss you more than words can state.

I miss your laugh, your smile, your gaze, your touch.

I miss your hand in mine, your lips on my lips.

I miss you in my thoughts, in my dreams.

I miss you...plain and simple.

Time Is Running

Two people occupy my mind:

- someone who wants to travel, have no anchors, no children, no ties that bind, except the companionship of a lover.

and...

- someone who wants deep roots, a home full of love and children, a foundation, and a wife, living a traditional life.

I can see happiness in both these lives. I can see a future down both these paths. I don't know which one I'm on however; which roll of the dice that has been cast before me.

Perhaps, I'm on a different path entirely that sees me not achieving either of those above.
Perhaps, the two people inside me will cease to exist after battling for dominance.

I just need to feel the spark to know which track my train is on.

see you space cowboy

I wish I could disconnect from the world for six months.

Take a vacation from everyone I know.

Reset my brain and the relationships I have with people.

I'm starting to push things. Trying to make things happen when they aren't meant to.

Pushing up against a brick wall hoping it will turn into a door.

My solution is to disconnect. Disappear. Center myself. Reevaluate my goals. Reevaluate my life. Figure out why things are the way they are and how I'll move forward.

Let's see if it'll work.

In Your Arms I Feel Alive

It's a terrible thing to not know who you are, but it is equally terrifying to actually know. To know your weaknesses, your faults. To know the cause of each mistake and each downfall that has come from your own soul.

I'm not as independent as I claim to be. In certain aspects I can hold my own. Small fleeting instances. But in the grand scheme of things I'm not independent.

I thrive when I'm with someone, made whole by another person. All worry and doubt falls away in the eyes of a woman who loves me and shows it. I am a better man when I am in love and loved in return. Complete. Secure. Happy.

I am in chaos when I am alone. Grasping at straws and worried what the next day will bring. Full of self doubt and self contempt. Destroyed by my loneliness. Afraid I will end up this way for the rest of my life.

I've always been a romantic. Someone who strives for love, who dies for love. Someone who gives more than he gets, and gives even more the less he receives. I pour my heart and soul into a bond with another person with little to show for it.

This is all I know. Each endeavor is spent to win over someone, to win their love, and finally feel whole again. Writing poems, bending over backwards, looking past faults, and clinging to the light that is love.

No matter what I give, however, I never find what I need for more than a fleeting moment.

How do you build a life off something so fleeting? You can't. It's not possible.

So what is someone like me to do? Wait on the back burner for love to come around? Keep searching for new avenues hoping one will last longer then the past? Or give up entirely?

If you don't burn as passionately in love as me you won't understand this problem. Not many do. And sadly it's too much for some.

I hate admitting I'm the type of person that needs someone to be happy. Especially when all those around me say, you need to love yourself first. Is it wrong to say I get my worth from the smile, the soft words, the lips of another? To gain confidence in myself when someone is rooting for me? To feel love when I'm pouring my heart out at the feet of someone else?

It's all I know, all I've ever known. I'll keep being this way no matter what happens.

Until it kills me.

In Retrospect pt. 2

A year ago today, I spoke of love with secret lips. Wondering what it would be like if I could sweep you off your feet and out of your bad situation to show you a better world that included me. I wondered if it was wrong to tell someone you loved them if they weren't alone.

For you...I'm glad I did.

Since that time, there have been many nights of silent longing, hopeful wanting, pain from distance, silence and repentance, intimacy and connection. I've kissed your lips, like I said I would, loved you like I promised I might, and thought of you with open heart and open mind.

It's been a long year from "just so you know, it's you" to where we are now. A long year of love and pain and strife. A long year, that I wasn't sure would end here.

It's not hard to reiterate these feelings for they have been strong and I'm sure you're tired of hearing it by now. But an anniversary such as this should be cited, even if it doesn't mean much in the long run.

A year ago we weren't much, just friends talking about a fantasy future, conversations where I made you blush and wish for me never to stop.

Now things are a little different.

We tried our hand at something and it wasn't what we had planned, but we both got something out that I think we needed. In a different life it would have been all the things we wished and hoped and dreamed it would or could be, but here we got what we did. and that's okay.

I got to be with you, which is what I wanted. I just hope you got what you wanted as well.

A year from now things will likely be starkly different. Whether that means we are more or less than we are at this moment I can't say. I do know that things will undoubtedly change as they always do. It changed from being nothing to something, so it will change again.

Here's to another year.