Of all the moments sought for
all the space wasted on determination of wrong
wrong turn wrong choice wrong chance
taken aback, no thought to give
to a time when life was right
when it could be right, when the tables turned and the tides twisted
and the moon aligned just right with the stars and her eyes
And the wonder of how I ever got here
to this new place.
A place of hope and anticipation. teetering, tiptoeing, waiting
Wavering.
for that old familiar feeling of wreckage
it never comes
It never comes this time, this time is different
Air sits heavy in a good way, heavy with smoke and perfume, and hands that shake when they clasp another
How is there room for this
room in my world

this is not my world. my world is cold lonely alarm clocks at night and dreams of city ordinances, visions of a fate carved out in binary
The ghosts remain, they weave in and out of roads before me
but they are weary too
blurring the truth and echoing memories that leave no memoirs
Struggle to see what is real until it no longer matters
all that matters is now, this moment, this Monet
the fear that words will fail you how many times now have they come to your rescue
How many times has there been no rescue
If this isn’t love then love does not exist

Lie still. Hold your breathe. Don’t wake up not from this
careless for tomorrow it is all worth it now
this second. this one, one, one more second
Is this a second chance

She is the whisper of oceans after a storm
the promise that the tides will ebb, the gasp of air when you thought you’d had your last
Transcend time and space
no need, she has stopped it all
the world is a coastline drive, salt-ladled wind in a broken window stuck permanently down and you don’t care
She smiles at me, a mirage I will tattoo on the back of my eyelids that I may never forget the roads traveled and the crosses born and the nails I drove so deep for so many years and on the third day it is risen the stardust that I am has given way
Given up, no

To be. Just be. She is chains melting and heartache healed and in this I know that I will live forever
How could I leave

Lying here in 5 day old clothes and 30 some years of contempt.

This story will end in tears. Like all stories do. After the epilogue, behind the scenes, post after party destruction. Devolution.

There is nothing quite so painful as prolonged insomnia. It magnifies the pain of day as words twist and turn, toss and tangle, warp and wrangle the mind as it struggles for peace just one. Moment’s. Peace.

But no, the words rage on losing all meaning gaining all momentum in their crusade of torment every second thought every regret every question looms in darkness those red lights are flashing how are they still so bright after all these years? You stare until your eyes blur blink look away but they remain

Every open eye. They remain. Cruel, red minutes that are your life. Go by

And how fucking slowly they go by. Burning eyes open to a passing minute. Then suddenly hours. Panic. I must sleep a feeble thought wails from somewhere in there before it’s washed away or railed away or run over by this angry mob of

Guilt.

Pacing doesn’t help don’t even try. Reach for the phone for some salvation frantically type out this one last note if those last few thoughts can just get out if you write them down no need to think about them

See

A new thought comes. Violently. Eyes rip open. Panic. Nausea. Greeting card from some 30 year old mistake. New round. New wave of madness chanting prayers and postulates sayings and old photographs and tacky homemade placards on grandma’s wall Irish proverbs and Spanish housewarming dream catching knick knacks of childhood are somehow all the saddest thing you could ever remember and you soak your pillow

Blurring time