I

 am not okay

i will be

but i'm so not

2025

I am hopeful.

Some Nights

I find myself
Doubled over
Asking to be saved
Or forgiven

I ask

To be set free

Even as

I have no idea

What that means

I beg angels

To let me go

Because I know

They've been saving me

I ask gods

To pass judgment

Because I know

They've been letting me slide

And even as

Friends

My angels

Let me go

And even as

My children

Gods to me

Pass judgment

I still know

I owe more

Than what is being asked

Of me

And I don't 

Understand

How to reconcile that

I just have

My bleeding heart

My open mind

My curious nature

My nurturing hand

And the world just

Shuts me out

Slices away

My desire

Such an expert

Swordsman

Is fate

I question

My mastery

Of anything

At all

Stories

I want to write a story that's not mine

Fantastical

Full of wonder

Characters of substance and charisma

But my story always creeps in

People I know

Myself, 

That person I hardly know

Most of the time

I want to write a story

Of someone else

But everything I write

Is still me

Somehow

No matter the subject

Am I really that self-centered?

Train Thoughts

 I am the hand that holds my future. I’ve never gripped it tightly.  Dropped it more than a few times.  How will age change me?  Will arthritic hands wish to grasp that which I never cared to hold, but lack the strength?  Or will my hand remain open, offering my future to any passing whim?

I’m crying inside where no one can hear but me.  My voice is always tinged with it if you listen close enough.  My legs are strong because the tears become heavy after a lifetime of crying.  Perhaps I should let them out more.

Shadow Mee

A moment in time
A moment of mine

I am stealing

I stole a whole day

Of this weekend

Why does it feel like theft

To claim my time for me?

Because I've given myself over

Living in my shadow form

So I don't have to feel my life

All the goodness

Slipping through my fingers

He called to my shadow

Beckoned her

He drank with her

Talked with her

Walked with her

But reached for me

And I came out of my shadow

To see him

And I let him see me

A little, anyway

And he makes me question

Do I still need to hide

In my shadow

Or am I ready

To shine?

Saturday Morning Melancholy

I am lost

And everything hurts

I’m back at the start

All the endings stacked

So that I can’t see

Have no desire to look

For new beginnings

I am alone

My brain knows I am not

But my heart cries out

YES YOU ARE

And the quiet morning 

Echoes my loneliness 

And the solitary tear

Threatens to drop

Even as I hold it back

Afraid of a floodgate

Steeped in pain

Drenched in sadness

I force motivation 

Into my limbs

Get dressed

Go to work

Wear that smile

So my pain doesn’t spread 

Hate myself for continuing 

Hate myself for wanting to be dead

Hate myself for hurting

Hate myself for not wanting to heal

Can I force my arms to open

And accept the beauty

In my life

Can I force my mind to open

And hold happiness

Over strife

Can I force my heart to open 

I just don’t think

I can