Old Friend

It’s you and me again—

Sitting like friends on this

Old hardwood floor.

The windows of this

House are covered in dust

And the memories I've

Shared with you.

It’s you and me again—

Remember when you helped me

Get through the time

With the boy

And the bruises

And the late nights

And the moon?

It’s you and me again—

O dear old friend.

We've made it this far—

Sometimes I’m worried

I can’t wake up without you.

It’s you and me again—

If we sift through photographs

And old timey stills

You’re always there,

Lurking in the shadows

Just a hint of

A secret

In the corner of my mouth.

It’s you and me again—

I've held you near and dear,

And I've trusted you to care.

But lately,

I've felt your tug

On the ends of my hair

Keeping me from getting close.

It’s you and me again—

I can’t tell if you’re sad,

Or hurt,

Or angry.

But I’m just ready.

Or at least, I hope so.

It’s you and me again—

You stand between all that I stand to gain,

And for that,

I must bid farewell.

I won’t forget when we stared at the moon

And you kept me safe from them.

It’s you and me again,

The way it has almost always been.

I remember a time,

When you weren't around—

It’s hard to say goodbye to an old friend. 

O, Alcoholic!

O, sweet alcoholic!

There was a lonesome moment where

I could see how much you cared.

Our eyes made records of the past

And all the times it left us there.

O, dear alcoholic!

We’ve made a mess of everything

And the ropes have grown so thin.

I’m falling over the guardrail now,

But you can’t hear above the din.

O, sullen alcoholic!

I’m calling all the forces here

To help me sleep at night!

I held you close and I held you dear;

Could it be I held too tight?

O, moronic alcoholic!

I loved you like I loved myself,

And maybe that’s where I went wrong.

I’d like to put this on a shelf

And write you in a song.

O, paralyzed alcoholic!

I’ve kept a lock upon my heart,

But I tried to share with you.

The way I was now seems so smart,

But of course I still tried something new.

O, damn alcoholic!

I only asked for what you could give;

It really didn’t seem so much.

But you have perfected a way to live

A life devoid of love.

O, my alcoholic!

I woke to find that you were gone

And all you left me was a note.

Each and every trace of you, no more.

It’s hard to see through all this smoke.

2:30 AM

If they could have seen us

in that moment

you know they would have been afraid.

Obscene!

Cover up!

Look away!

They'd shout of rooms that we should have.

But the funniest thing-

the oddest of truths.

Not an inch of skin

was exposed.

Not a kiss was even shared.

That safe nest we built was not a place to delve deep

into skin.

Our souls were enough.

So let them be ashamed of what they saw!

Two people in a draw-

Because with you,

in that starry night-

my entire life made sense.

Red Rocks and Shooting Stars

I was readily determined to never love the desert. This was an easy enough task—who could love the brown, scrubby foliage and the pathetically small mountains after the grand, sweeping beauty of my home? Green and fresh and old—the desert stood no chance. Two full years of disdain for the place I begrudgingly called home—no regrets.

I had no idea that falling in love with you also meant falling in love with the desert.

The car pulled up at our destination, and I unfolded myself from the small, green, overheating mess. The ride had been long enough to make me feel old and tired. I stretched my back and gazed around while you reached over and pulled me against you. Suddenly a new sense of appreciation filled my consciousness. The red rock was stunning, ancient and sublime. The air was full of dust and history—the gigantic blue lake was nestled stoically in the background. I wanted to lose myself in that atmosphere.

We spent our days exploring the water, discovering ravines and Indian ruins, getting close to fish and pushing the limits of our lungs. We spent the nights exploring each other, discovering new emotions and stories, getting further from reality, and testing the limits of our lungs.

The stars were falling around us, every thirty seconds we got to wish on a shooting star. I thought falling stars were a good thing—but perhaps they were a warning. Even the heavens knew what we didn’t.

I fell deeply in love with the desert, and with you.

You are inseparable in my mind.

I cannot look at the vast stretches of orangey red dust and feel anything but sad. The desert rears up in my mind when I least expect it to, and with it I am a woman down. Brought to my knees with the sharp realization that you don’t want me.

More Okay

There was always a tiny moment

When I wasn’t sure how you actually

Felt about me.

It was the split second before

I saw your face

And before

You folded me up, deep into you.

Somehow that didn’t deter

The grand and delightful whispers of love.

I had felt so many things in my life

That I sometimes left you for a spell.

A sabbatical of the mind.

I couldn’t help the leaving,

And the absence wasn’t planned.

It was nice that you stayed put.

I was never really all that okay

But I was more okay with you.

I love my ability to feel

But if I could turn it off for a moment

Maybe I would finally sleep soundly since last I saw you.

Every sweeping memory takes me entirely

By surprise.

The flooding feelings don’t like to leave me be

And nothing cures them the way you do.

If you could do me a favor;

Come back.

I was never really all that okay

But I was more okay with you.