I keep feeling the need to reach out to a place where I am unwanted...
life goes on yet pieces of me float...wander purposefully toward a resolution
that will never come.

He loves me. To a point. Doesn't want me.  Past a point.  Needs me to silently forgive the wrong he keeps doing.  Beyond the point.

There is no return from the middle.  The purgatory of heart and mind is unsatisfying compromise...
because every thing's in it's place and there's a place for every thing...

I believe unwanted is a space uneasily detected, but readily identified...
in a far off look or stare; faint whimpers hung loosely on lips that slip into cold air...

To the point.  I'm here.  Past the point.  You're there.  Beyond the point.  One of us doesn't want to feel the felt...live the life...the reality of bitter regret.

All we can do is enjoy the motions...
All we can do is embrace the roles...
All we can do is numb the obvious...

On opposing sides of a resolution that will never come because--
We don't want it.

The Enemy and the Inner Me

I.
If I had the guts to tell You how I feel I would say I gotta stay cause heaven holds no earthly resolution for me.  The untainted can't heal the hurt that dwells within--
bound to this sinful flesh, are regrets bigger than me;
thoughts that have shaped me--
actions, senseless, they birthed me and mold my being while God seeps through the cracked character of my broken spirit;
heaven can't fix this me...

II.
I know it's just a feeling, but those are real--valid, right?
Even if only for a moment, these weightless and unsubstantial intangibilities are so heavy;
They bind me--
Me and my happy...

III.
Eternity--in glory at that,
should bring me peace of mind
but I feel empty
I feel worn and disgusted with myself
for allowing humanity,
to get the best of me...

Unworthy (a circle poem)

dirty
dingy
naked
naughty
beautiful
basking
heat
hell
cool
cold
lukewarm
love
God
good
damned
deranged
nonchalant
noteworthy
biting
remarks
red
scars
salvation
fearing
unknown
makes
me
feel
alone
and...

8.26.11

she didn't care that he was taken
distress set in because of the fall

the careless nose dive into an ocean
of sweet and nothing

life, it ebbs and flows like the gentle of his voice
led by a warm pale moonlight

lonely and drowning in the shallow
she waits

waits to be picked back up again
or hoping his fall will soon follow

who can tell?

"meantime" always looks the same
and wading can last a lifetime

Murder, in the first degree: An Ode to Self-stimulation

the seeds...they spilled...got wasted...aborted...was the potential...to grow...still...I imagine you...envision life full...people touched...by all your worth...because you live...live[ed]...past tense...you never came into being...his seed...it got spilled...it got wasted...the potential to grow...it's gone...still...I imagine...you...

Obituary

All that remains of him is me...
Immortalized with less significance
Than I am due

Not even this sheet of paper
Can say "I love you"...
He didn't; now he can't

And I am left knowing,
He never intended too...

The Dilemma

The diamond...
it glistens in the display case
much like the twinkle in her wishful eyes

A single tear disrupts--intrudes on
the beauty of this moment

I watch her feelings as they watch me
in breathless anticipation of a commitment
that will never come--

I don't love her.
There is no reciprocity;
only a baby

And that's not enough
I know she can't see it,
but parenthood can't make "us" happy

So villainy, that's the cloak and dagger ascribed to me
cause I can't move beyond
watching her feelings, watching me...