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Description
Ferry Ride

I remember the day the walls fell down.
When you came home
With that diagnosis.
A six letter word that changed so much,
Tore a black hole in reality
Which sucked us all in.

And as you died we all went with you,
A hideous emaciation of all things sane and stable.
Grotesque, like the tumors growing inside you,
We were all infected.
The burden, the fears, the despair
The   grief

And if I could have borrowed time
I would have mortgaged my life twice over.

Remorse
At all those lost moments, missed opportunities
Your life a blank, unanswered question,
A rich and vivid life and history,
         Lost

       Time

          Is

    Ticking

And there I held your hand still warm
On a cold bleak morning
You had gone just minutes before,
Surrendering to the war you had fought so hard.

We stood mute, a cold crumbling city
Destroyed by bombs of lost hopes
And the shrapnel that was despair.
Three breathing corpses in the room,
Silent and paralyzed.

Orpheus without a lyre,
We wandered the wasteland unable to find ourselves or each other.
Clawing our way through Hades' Kingdom,
Fighting Cerberus with tooth and nail,
But somewhere we turned to look
And you vanished forever—leaving an ever-present absence.

Feel, feel
Why can’t I feel?

Numb

The frost set in
And though I screamed I could not wake up
From the nightmare.
Disembodied from myself,
I had to watch it all play out.

I want to run into the wall,
I want to run into the wall,
The nice hard brick wall.
I want to run again, and again, and again
1, 2, 3, charge—feel the impact of brick against flesh.
I want to be bruised, battered, damaged
Let the outside reflect the inside
I want pain,
Physical, brutal pain—to scream till I am hoarse—run till I collapse.

Trying to love, to hate.
It was too late, I had consumed those six seeds
And become trapped.

Help me—please!
I need an escape.
Lethe, where are you?
Bathe me in your waters,
The flood that for a few moments washes away
This reality
Which suffocates me.

          Terminal
C-old visits to hospitals
A-nnihilation of the center
N-o stability
C-raving things to return to how they were before
E-verything is empty
R-emembering a better, happier time

I was walking with Sisyphus
And asking him why he kept pushing that rock.
I wanted him to give up
Perhaps only because
Had it been me,
I might have.

I cannot write, I cannot write, I cannot write, I cannot write.
Constipated,
Perching over paper
Pen in hand;
It would not come, no matter how hard I tried to force it
And all the shit inside built up,
Till I was poisoned.
And I bled myself
With fragments
The shattered mask I tried to wear

     Words
Fell like
            Little
     Pieces    of     glass
           Cold
Sharp       and        ugly
         Jagged poetry

Unable to speak
I jabbered uncontrollably
A malignant tumor of words.

Years

Go

By

Old wounds heal
But memories written in stone still remain.

Somewhere I woke up to melting ice
And stirring feelings of things floating to the surface.
Eyes at last shed monsoons upon the desert
And from the old stumps, copsed new life.

Leaving the shore, I tossed my coin to the boatman
And started the long journey home
Climbing upwards from darkness and into the light.

The journey is not over and the torch has passed hands.
It’s a long road into the unknown,
But we’ll keep running it,

It’s what you would have wanted.

Description
Ferry Ride

I remember the day the walls fell down.
When you came home
With that diagnosis.
A six letter word that changed so much,
Tore a black hole in reality
Which sucked us all in.

And as you died we all went with you,
A hideous emaciation of all things sane and stable.
Grotesque, like the tumors growing inside you,
We were all infected.
The burden, the fears, the despair
The   grief

And if I could have borrowed time
I would have mortgaged my life twice over.

Remorse
At all those lost moments, missed opportunities
Your life a blank, unanswered question,
A rich and vivid life and history,
         Lost

       Time

          Is

    Ticking

And there I held your hand still warm
On a cold bleak morning
You had gone just minutes before,
Surrendering to the war you had fought so hard.

We stood mute, a cold crumbling city
Destroyed by bombs of lost hopes
And the shrapnel that was despair.
Three breathing corpses in the room,
Silent and paralyzed.

Orpheus without a lyre,
We wandered the wasteland unable to find ourselves or each other.
Clawing our way through Hades' Kingdom,
Fighting Cerberus with tooth and nail,
But somewhere we turned to look
And you vanished forever—leaving an ever-present absence.

Feel, feel
Why can’t I feel?

Numb

The frost set in
And though I screamed I could not wake up
From the nightmare.
Disembodied from myself,
I had to watch it all play out.

I want to run into the wall,
I want to run into the wall,
The nice hard brick wall.
I want to run again, and again, and again
1, 2, 3, charge—feel the impact of brick against flesh.
I want to be bruised, battered, damaged
Let the outside reflect the inside
I want pain,
Physical, brutal pain—to scream till I am hoarse—run till I collapse.

Trying to love, to hate.
It was too late, I had consumed those six seeds
And become trapped.

Help me—please!
I need an escape.
Lethe, where are you?
Bathe me in your waters,
The flood that for a few moments washes away
This reality
Which suffocates me.

          Terminal
C-old visits to hospitals
A-nnihilation of the center
N-o stability
C-raving things to return to how they were before
E-verything is empty
R-emembering a better, happier time

I was walking with Sisyphus
And asking him why he kept pushing that rock.
I wanted him to give up
Perhaps only because
Had it been me,
I might have.

I cannot write, I cannot write, I cannot write, I cannot write.
Constipated,
Perching over paper
Pen in hand;
It would not come, no matter how hard I tried to force it
And all the shit inside built up,
Till I was poisoned.
And I bled myself
With fragments
The shattered mask I tried to wear

     Words
Fell like
            Little
     Pieces    of     glass
           Cold
Sharp       and        ugly
         Jagged poetry

Unable to speak
I jabbered uncontrollably
A malignant tumor of words.

Years

Go

By

Old wounds heal
But memories written in stone still remain.

Somewhere I woke up to melting ice
And stirring feelings of things floating to the surface.
Eyes at last shed monsoons upon the desert
And from the old stumps, copsed new life.

Leaving the shore, I tossed my coin to the boatman
And started the long journey home
Climbing upwards from darkness and into the light.

The journey is not over and the torch has passed hands.
It’s a long road into the unknown,
But we’ll keep running it,

It’s what you would have wanted.