I cannot touch you,
the reach is beyond a starry night
when the winds change
I can feel the loneliness ahead.
I took your picture down,
not to avoid looking at you,
just to give you peace,
my own well being a sweet demon.
If I cannot find a word
I write my own,
scratch out an idea,
replace it with anything new,
Anything that might help me lose
this urgency drives me to return,
words are again and again and again
reminders and solace and love and respect,
desire and passion and worry and
always asking, just, asking ….
I don’t know when, but I do know there is peace in knowing mine will be over soon.
Have you ever wondered,
was it really a …
did the traffic suddenly change
was the fall
timed in such a way
that every factor
that all the t’s were crossed.
Because isn’t that what we’re left with …
figuring out why
understanding there is a reason
and this was meant to
Or is just jealousy,
she figured it out first.
I think her name was
somehow it stays with me,
the clothing line in her back yard,
with he lifeless body hanging,
wanting nothing more,
having decided this would be the answer
to everything she could possibly
ever wish for in the
rest of her life,
the last ten minutes before
she could breathe no more.
I’m sitting here writing about
I’m already the hero,
the delusional martyr,
the one that calls himself
but without the attraction
of the gorgeous girl down the street
who seemed to be the only one whom understood,
the only one who cared,
the only remaining factor
keeping this writer alive.
But who really gives a shit,
thankful for the job,
the composer who wrote their music
years ago with a completely different
outcome in mind.
Who is the winner, when there will be so much lost.
Ever wanted to be just done, just finished, just alone because Twitter & Instagram & reality & Grocery Stores & Flying & Books & Love & Laughter & Movies & Theatre & Sports & … just didn’t tell a good story any longer?
A collection of beautiful thoughts, pictures and information
A blog of my struggles with mental illness, social isolation and being transgender n a hostile world.
I read, I write, I sketch. For fun.
Some Things Are Better Off Read
The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination- Albert Einstein
Poetry and words
A place where you can be human.
Poetry that purrs. It's reowr because the cat said so.
Introspections artistry externalized
Sharing my little corner of the world
A Place to Enjoy the Beauty All Around us.
Every now and then my head is racing with thoughts so I put pen to paper
"She believed she could, so she did." 🌙
Fleeting Emotions, perpetual words.