From Here

Where do I go from here?

Loss does not fit some arbitrary framework

Assigned by society at large or social norms

Loss is not only about death, or something gone astray

Whatever form it takes, there is a weight

It sits upon your chest, a drunkard with heft

Refusing to move from a spot he's found comfortable

I just want to be free of it

To reach the weightlessness

That comes from freeing yourself

Letting the loss go and moving on

Yet, as it piles, loss upon loss

Where do I go from here?

 

Heart Break

How long does a heart break?

Lightning fast? 

Race car quick? 

Or geologically slow? 

Is there even an answer?

Does it just flow on?

Until one day, healed.

Seasons

Though it may be spring

On the verge of summer

Warmth and sun and wave

Blossoming with the flora

I am in a season of winter

The death before the rebirth

Beyond fall's color and flame

Working towards my own

Resurrection and blooming

A Cloak

I think I'm starting to understand why I have always had an affinity for winter. The cold, the desolation, the desire of people to isolate themselves all give me the space to be on my own. Regardless of how lonely I am or how alone I feel, in winter I can lean into that and just be me and feel what I want to feel. Even in a social setting like I am in at this exact moment, I can just be in the background and observe. I can be part of the scenery and am not expected to be an integral part of any conversations. There is some comfort and safety in that. The anonymity becomes a cloak. 

Fleeting

It's so damn fleeting you begin to wonder if it ever existed at all

That movement out of the corner of your eye as you hike in the woods

Mountain fog rising through the hardwoods until it meets cloud

Like that moment you remember of having love returned to you 

In the same weight and measure that you so freely gave up to them

Until they realized that you were no longer worthy and all of it

Was merely to be whispered about as great while it had lasted

The Pub

Vibrant sea of holiday merry makers

Swirls incessantly around me, cacophonous

Jubilant in their social interactions

Bundled up against the persistent cold outside

Wind howling with fervor and creating

A bitter, freezing canyon of the alleyway

Jewel bright lights twinkle gaily

Diametrically opposed to the mood

Striking up within me and without

Remnants

Remnants of time permeate the atmosphere

Vestiges of small moments in this life

Where contentment seemed the merest

Of possibilities, both real and imagined

Swiftly fading to nothing and soon will

Be gone and lost, leaving only nothing

Vast and empty but with hope for more

Be Kind

 The holidays are difficult for so many and for so many different reasons. There is so much pressure in the media and from family to be happy. So much pressure to enjoy the season and be festive. I feel for any and all of us struggling through this time. I knew this one would be difficult. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I too would struggle even more than I usually do. I so desperately want to enjoy Christmas time and all the other parts of this time of year. In the end...I just can't. 

 My personal reasons aren't important. The reasons of others, aren't important. If you're reading this, please, remember to just be kind to people. We never know what they're going through. So much of this world has lost the ability to be empathetic and kind. It has become a society of "me first" and it shows on a daily basis. Ultimately, I'll put on a happy face each day until mid-January. I'll go through the motions to show everyone that the holidays are great. I'll watch my favorite Christmas movies, mostly the ones that aren't so Christmassy (is that a word?) and walk alone around Christmas markets. I'll shop for friends and family, I'm an amazing gifter, and hit up the family events. Mostly though, I'll just try to do my best to be patient and kind and good a human.

Imprisoned

I feel imprisoned by words

Held captive by language

Enthralled by every concept

Of the written and the spoken

Jim Carroll's "lavish tyranny of words"

Written large onto my psyche

Every fucking song lyric

Poems by the handful, reduce me

To the very core of emotion

As surely as if I'm chained up

A prisoner of construct