Unfinished

When you feel like the rules are different for everyone but you, and the world keeps changing except for the view, close your eyes and hear the sounds from that place long ago that spoke to your youth.

When nothing turns out like the dream you chased but never followed through, and it seems your spent hopes and layered dimensions are all but wasted on someone you once knew, close your mind to life’s whimsical wisdom that only altered your youth, to find again the one voice that always spoke the truth.

It’s the silence we feel in the noisiest of towns, the vibrant fragrances we taste in the dullest of mouths. It’s knowing when something is too much or just not enough. It’s beyond our hearts and in our guts. It’s a love we left on some beach for a path we followed but in which we never believed. It’s knowing where you are is a place you don’t belong and where you aren’t is a place you’ll never go.

When you feel as though it’s unfinished and over at the same time and something that took forever is done in the blink of an eye, never forget who you were for awhile before you figured out who others were not. 

These Days

I linger mostly somewhere
between what I want,
what I don’t want,
and not knowing what I want.

Confused by my tears,
I’m left exhausted
and internally withdrawn
from the pain I cannot
seem to grab hold of,
challenge and conquer.

I swallow the rising
storm, hoping
no one sees the panic
in my eyes, crying
“I am lost on this
path to nowhere,
somewhere,
anywhere.”

Incensed by my inability
to touch my reality,
make sense of it
and feel congruent,
I close my doors,
my blinds, my eyes,
only to take a peek,
when I feel it’s safe.

I shake myself as
I feel my limbs
going to sleep,
hating that tingling,
(perhaps numb is better),
knowing, however,
I cannot stand the
immobility of rest.

So these days
I giggle because the
insanity tickles;
I cry because the
losses hurt; and
I fight because the
living feels like dying.