Life is beautiful when it’s noon and you have money to spend on ingredients for future baking sessions. Pizza is put in the oven around seven, but it gets a little overdone because you’re distracted. You eat it anyway because it tastes as good as if it were cooked right. The dog plays rough with the cat; she doesn’t care that she’s smaller. It’s a few minutes shy of midnight and Justin Timberlake’s voice comes from the playlist to ease your mind. Your thoughts ignore it and ceaselessly follow the beat of each song. You’ll meet slumber by one if you’re lucky.
Society sets its own standards, and you either obey or refuse to.
Do not trust a man who does not cry;
Crying is what humans do.
Humans are strong,
Yet, also, weak.
And so they cry.
Joy, and despair.
Each, quite enough to release what is concealed within.
Tell me where the true compassion is in this world?
Sure, everyone’s quick to care when it’s “for a good cause”.
But what about genuine concern for the underdog? For the kid without friends? The girl who doesn’t eat? The man who sleeps near the sidewalk?
Where’s the compassion for them?
Thinking about someone altruistically because you knowingly want to, not because you feel it’s an obligation.
Present it; maybe I will then see.
Although, at this moment, all my focus is on grief for what appears lost.
You can’t run. You can’t hide. You can’t.
So you have to walk, like everyone else. Walk fast sometimes, and walk slow when you aren’t walking fast.
Dance in the moonlight when no one’s watching. Dance in front of everyone and feel their eyes on you. Forget about their eyes because they don’t matter in that moment.
Jump into the unpredictable water and hold your breath as you go under. Hear the silence, the silence that blocks out the crashing of waves above the surface. Remind yourself that you are one speck floating about the ocean, just as you are one speck walking to and from on the planet. Lick your salty lips and embrace your senses: you will have them while you walk. Do not abuse them, for they are not going to remain optimal forever. You, yourself, will not stay immortal on this planet.
But get ready to run as hard as you can once you make it to the other side. There you will be replenished, captivating, and whole. That mountain you couldn’t climb before, you will victoriously conquer.
My eyelids are weak.
I cannot find.
It is the cooler air of Fall,
Sneaking in through my window.
It is the unapologetic loneliness that I know so well and endure.
My beautiful friends reside many miles south of here,
So their faces are faraway, washed out, and stale.
Two months of time has gone since we occupied the same space;
Two months since our roaring laughs flowed together into a tsunami;
Two months since my heavy heart was light,
Unlike these unusually dejected eyelids.
Get up and go;
No one has to know
Where you went
Or where you’ve been.
I want to take mild walks down our driveway and out onto our street
To witness the familiarity of the solid houses that stand while we gaze upon them.
I want to peek inside your head as you spill your unfiltered thoughts,
Close to the glowing of dusk, because my innocence is curious.
I want to lay by your side and count the breaths you take during
Your sweet slumber, instead of counting sheep.
In the still of the dark night, your breathing fills the empty room
And I want to feel the rhythmic movements through the mattress and know
That you are physically present, that you are comfortingly there.
I want you to grow stupidly angry at my silly words,
Only to laugh and look over at me with a full smile on your face.
I want to keep your last name forever as a token of my appreciation,
As well as a petite silver ring to mimic the worth of my affection.
The night rain shouldn’t have fallen, but it did.
Entirely wrong, the weak man.
That irreversible action only produced cruelty.
An awaited verdict came without justice.
And then a guilty conscience for the rest of his life.