The addiction to addiction
The affliction of restriction
Manifested as a need
And then asserted as a creed
And then reiterated with so much conviction

The condition to condition
The remission by admission
Then directed as a vie
And controverted to belie
The fallacy of underlying supposition

The devotion to devotion
The demotion of emotion
Elevated to a fault
And escalated to a halt
And then depicted as a misdirected notion

The concession to concession
The progression of regression
Incremented to a stand
That it was never even planned
By subsequently disavowing each profession

The objection to objection
The rejection of affection
Then positioned to appear
As if I wasn’t seeing clear
By disavowing any credence of connection



I rested there inside
A normal day to be mundanely tied
With all the elements of home
Complete yet skewed as if a song I knew was playing in a different tone

And suddenly, well, there you were
As clear as day and just as sure
And in a chair I’ve never seen before is where you sat
And just as casual as summer days, we chose to try to chat

The how are you and how’ve you been
The surface layer whats and whens
The gentle arc of friends who always meant to meet
The slow facade of calm when there were surely sirens screaming in the street

And soon, I lay upon my bed
Compelled to follow anywhere the conversation led
And then you rose and closer came as if at my behest
You sat beside me and upon your lap I lay my head to rest

And suddenly, our words seemed very thin
For both we had a story that we struggled to begin
So silence did we share a while, then a while more
Choosing to delay the road we hope to walk but feared to go explore

You chuckled and the silence broke
And quizzically I looked at you until you finally spoke
A fragment of a song I played
And played because it made me think of how you could have never stayed

And all I did was smile like a fool and say, “You know
I played it twice as much because the pain was softer than the letting go…”
You offered up a, “Hmmm” and so I answered with a kiss
But then I woke and you had turned to only mist

And strange, I thought it was, to dream
So far from then a now that still remembered what you mean
But all the same, I wake and choose to play
A song that still reminds me of how hard it was to finally walk away

First Dream, Second Dream, Third Dream, Fourth Dream


I woke up from a world, the dream of you that numbers five
A house where, suddenly, I did arrive
A driveway with a sharp incline
A me that wasn’t yours and so a you that wasn’t real, and wasn’t mine

For reasons left unknown, I came alone, but some were there
And both, I seemed to not, but also care
As if we were all set to meet
But why, I knew as well as all the ones who now I forced myself to greet

You exited the house wearing a look of “oh, you’re here”
And whether good or bad, it wasn’t clear
As if you’d half-expected me
But also seemed to dread the thought that at your home I’d ever truly be

The time, it seemed mercurial like life set at a tilt
This fabrication that my mind had built
As if I knew it wasn’t real
But built it all the same, but couldn’t clarify the way that I should feel

No words were ever spoken, no embraces, nothing said
A world that was alive, but also dead
That easily, I knew was fake
But still it left an echo of a world I wanted once, but couldn’t take

First Dream, Second Dream, Third Dream, Fourth Dream


I saw you in a chair within a room, just one of five
And though we traded glances, of my path, I kept it wide
For in the dream, I entered to reclaim a thing I’d left
But when I turned, you weren’t there. My heart reduced by simple theft.

And in a hall, another stood, and pulled me to the side
And whispering, and with a point, to me, she did confide
And said, “She’s waiting down the way, not far…just over there.”
And there you were, amidst a crowd, an angel in a plastic chair.

And all that I could think to say, and sheepishly, was, “Hi…
Some lady said you’re down here which, to me, seemed to imply
That for some reason yet unknown, you wished to have a word
If not, then clearly I read far too deeply into what I’d heard”

And so you shifted slowly, choosing words to thus relay
And finally said, “I’d like to speak with you, there’s much to say,
But first, we need to leave, for I’ve a place that we can go
And there, we’ll talk where few will see, or even think my name you know.”

But what you meant to say to me, it never came to pass
I woke with eyelids heavy from a world I couldn’t grasp
And even then I wondered if you’d ever dreamed the same
And if I’ll ever see you there…where no one even knows you know my name

First Dream, Second Dream, Third Dream, Fifth Dream


Did you see the light that flickered in her eyes?
The candle of her soul that she protects with little lies?
And how she fails but smiles just because she tries?
But later cries…

Did you see the thunder in her storming heart?
The lightning and the hurricanes she puts into her art?
And how she fears the end, but never fears to start?
Or to depart…

Did you see the ink upon her fingertips?
The worlds of inspiration that are locked within her lips?
And how her silence lingers like a long ellipse?
Like an eclipse…


Does it claw at your heart like an echo of winter in June?
Does it tear at your soul like a violin playing goodbye?
Does it pull at your ocean of watery will like a moon?
Does it promise to hold you
In all that you go through
And cherish your laughter, and soften your tears when you cry?

Does it weigh on your shoulders in ways that you cannot define?
Does it cling to your chest like a breath that you’re fearful to take?
Does it leave its impression in all of your best-written lines?
Does it tell you tomorrow
Will lessen in sorrow
And be like a kiss that from slumber could pull you awake?

Does it hang at your neck like a locket from someone you lost?
Does it hold to your wrist like a lover afraid to let go?
Does it sing like a siren in waters you dared never cross?
Does it know you’re imperfect
But tell you, “You’re worth it…”
And see all the roses you fear that you’ve hidden in snow?

Does it haunt you like memories made of the moments you miss?
Does it pluck at the strings in your heart in a delicate way?
Does it hang in the air like your answer to, “What do you wish?”
Does it whisper forever
In each written letter
Til love is too pale of a word to convey what they say?


What’s left of us
We’d best discuss
The way that lust
And seeds of trust
Have circled thus
And turned to dust
And such disgust
We simply must

Decide to speak
Of all the weeks
We used to seek
So tongue in cheek
But often meek
And thought unique
Now gone oblique
Some old antique

We should extend
A moment then
If not as friends
Or means to ends
At least to mend
These could have beens
And make amends
By voice or pen

So here, I’ll start
And just impart
This paintless art
With painful hearts
And break the rhyme
As, so it seems,
I’m so inclined
To do for you
And always will
With every line
For though it’s true
You’re never mine
Just know, for you,
There’s no “until”
There never was
And I don’t mind
How long you take
I’m here, I’ll wait
So take your time
And clear your plate
And tell me when
A time and place
Through metaphors
Or through the space
Between the words
On broken signs
A knowing look
Or happy face

I’ll wait and hold
With coffee cold
Those stories old
I left untold
Like hidden gold
And there unfold
Whate’er you ask or need to know
Let’s meet in paths of heavy snow

Or fields of rust
And desert sand
While wearing cuts
On hearts and hands
Let’s sit or stand
And make it thus
For, dear, what’s left of us
We’d best discuss