There's something about the gentle rain
Falling
A steady tapping on pavement
Splashing from tires, rolling
The way my hair wears nature
And my cotton shirt absorbs the moisture
The scent of foliage, painting the air
There's something about the gentle rain
Kissing my face
While I walk alone

because they have mommy issues. stay away

I watched a documentary the other day
About a man and a mustang
He was getting up there, in age
The Wranglers, tucked under his belly
He still had a spark in his eyes
He wanted a big horse but drew
A skinny, wiry bay
With a mane that
Resembled spiky flames

This slight pony bit and kicked
And the man laughed at the irony
He got his big horse
So, every day, he was tested
While trying to teach the way
The only unity was when hoof met earth
The man's confidence, shaky
"This is the last horse I'll ride", he said

At some point, he and pony reached an
Agreement
A confidence, shared
Old man on a fireball
Big man, little horse
Oddly balanced
Like a movie still from an old western
I thought it was beautiful

My head aches
Feels like my skull is made
Of puzzle pieces or
Plates, shifting and scraping
It hurts
All thoughts and emotions
Swelling and pushing
With every breath and every
Heart beat

Loss
Something that will happen
Every living thing has a life span
A beginning and an end
I should be familiar and accepting
Accepting of a thing that happens to
Living things
Brought about by love, passion, biology or
Desire
My head hurts
Protecting my heart

The bottom of the sky
Where I swim
Watching coral bloom
I see broad strokes circling
Diving
At the bottom of the sky
Under streams of light
Watching life swirl around me

There has been so much bad
What was good
So many miles ago
In a distant place
Obscured by covered eyes
Maybe with time
I might find what was good
If my heart consents to
Miss you
And, I think, it is wrong
To want more than one
Or once
If it was the best
I should be content with the
Once
While whispering goodbye

I broke my favorite cup
Translucent china shaped like
Two lips
With a handle I held in mine
I broke my favorite cup

I'm sitting here, feeling pretty good
I know how it goes, so I am savoring it
Like how I make a candy bar last
I don't dare tell everyone this
I have a bit of guilt
That I feel good, when someone else feels bad

I had it in my head, what was romantic
I thought struggles were romantic
Against all odds, romantic
Suffering, romantic
The strong, dark, undertow
Romantic
To drown together

The unromantic truth is
Survival and happiness do not need
The energy of a chaos
Destructive, a hurricane, that rips
Hearts to pieces
Makes all reason, the droplets sprayed
From slit arteries

I am reevaluating the concept of
Romantic

Before i read this, i was thinking about how music is a trigger for memories for me.

I enjoyed this.

It is arrogant to wonder if
You miss my voice
Since, it is my leaving
Creating the silence

It is unreasonable for me to
Expect a thank you
For boxes on doorsteps
Where my footsteps should be

It should not be my question
Why do tears burn?
When such things draw out
And down, tracing cheek and neck

To be forgotten
That, I'm sure I'll be not
If not for my rights and wrongs
And a signature, where a kiss
Should be​

Mig
you are very encouraging. i have had a creative block. more like i am blocking feelings because of recent events. it's hard to get back in touch but i will try.
thank you

i'm flattered, Mig
you write so well, beautifully

thank you

Day for night
The trailer was cold
I used foam to insulate the windows
A dark, long room

The dishes collected in the sink
The scent of pink grapefruit soap
Now, sickens me
Room temperature, instant coffee
Made rings in cups

Searching for love
On chilly sheets
Under acoustic ceilings
Drowning in a vodka sea
Empties mingling with candles
Looking for love

Under and in and around
I swam, through jagged reefs
The echos of cold
Waves of cold
Bled into me

I was a bottle, sweating outside in
Looking for love
Under the caps of rolling waves
I floated on my back
Looking, not at the sun or moon
Looking at acoustic ceiling tiles
Floating, looking, drowning

What do we want in a shoe?
Do we want something practical,
That will hold us in comfort?
Or will the comfort make us forget
That we are wearing the shoe?

Am I willing to wear a shoe
That is a bit uncomfortable, but,
Attractive, even sexy?
A shoe that is difficult to walk in?
Maybe a shoe, for bedroom only?

Do I want my shoe to be genuine
Or a material that is artificial?
If it passes for real, is that enough?
Will I allow it to fool me?

Is there a shoe that is lasting?
A shoe that goes with everything?
Or, is the solution to have many shoes?
I go online and look at all the shoes...
The pros and cons of shoes

this is very touching and beautiful. i can see it

Mig!
thank you :)

Passion at rest
Spent hours searching for shells
On long walks, inside my head
Remembering what drove me
Forgetting what drove me

In the day, when things are seen
I have trouble finding things
And I find things I'm not looking for
I think I am lost
It was so easy, finding the words
A year ago

What makes me sharper?
What inspires wild thoughts and
Limitless desires?
Quieted by settled hearts and
Calm seas

Relearning how to speak

I feel I should
Dig a grave
But
I am not sure
Who will rest
In it
While the sadness
Of the loss
Drys my eyes
Before the tears
May fall
I look at the shovel
And lay my head down

What's up?
Haven't seen you in awhile
A lot has happened
Some good
Some bad
I'll
Have some coffee and a smoke

The plants are suffering
I'm not
Really
The laundry gets done
What's up with you?

I was sent some seeds
Will plant some flowers
If they bloom
Maybe I will
And the suffering of living things
Will green

I am going to the thrift store
To buy some vases
To put the flower's blooms
In
And stare at them
While I think of you

How have you been?