Home

Home tastes dry like a biscuit
Home tastes bitter and hard like an apple out of season
Home tastes hollow like a 25 cent gumball.

Home feels solid yet brittle like an old tree branch
When I touch it, it feels soft, like a warm blanket.

Home looks neat and organized
Home looks simple yet strong
Home looks like an open sign after hours.

Home smells like a dark cool place
Home smells like food wafting through the air
Home smells like smoke from a nearby chimney.

Home says, “I love you” only when it feels like it.

   What I Have Forgotten

Orange and brown leaves rustle,
I hear them crunch and give way.
One of them is outside
I must be on my way…

Away I have gotten, only to realize what I have forgotten;
my gun.

When I return I see the walker,
I crouch and channel my inner stalker.
I must jump through a broken window,
Trying to be as a silent as a mouse caught in an open meadow.

The room I seemed to have forgotten,
I remember piles of rotten silk cotton.
While searching a heart shot in the near distance.
I must be on my way…


    Serene

Serene was the place I visited.
Waterfalls pouring from cliffs
     Pooling down below.
Mountains that touched the sky
In the way wind touches the leaves on a tree.

Soaring high above I could begin to see,
The reality of where I am and why I’m here.
Yet still unknown to me,
The reason why I must continue enduring alone.

To be alone in such a beautiful place,
To see so much and feel so much,
Yet still be in a state of confusable despair,
That is serean.

    Who

To be unsure of who you are has to surely be the worst.
For it is in this time that we realize who we are.

Having doubt after doubt of the person you have become,
You realize and idealize the person you know you can become.

It isn’t easy to feel disconnected and unaccepted.
It isn’t easy to sit idle while everyone is in
Drive
Drive
Drive

Our natural instinct tells we need to thrive,
The will to survive.
But when that instinct desserts us and we go under,
We are left to sit and wonder,
How can someone feel so dark and asunder?

  On a Sunny Day

It is a fog which brings confusion on a sunny day.
Too dense to make sense of who or what you are.
Confusion can be darkness with no switch to be found.

Or it may be lost
A balloon floats up,
It’s owner too short to grasp.
An anchor sinks without a chain, never to be retrieved.
A little girl wails for her mommy.

To be confused is to be lost.
Lost in a place no longer familiar.
Once happy and thriving now dark and desolate.

All that is green must become brown.
All roses - eventually die,
Their shriveled petals fall.
Yet this is unknown to all.


  Why

Why am I crying?
Why must I always feel like dying?
I’m trying;
Trying, trying, trying
Always trying.
But for what?

Trying only to fail
Failing to do what I want
Failing to be who I want
Failing to break through.

I fail to create a vision of the future.
How can I envision success
When all I do is become more depressed?

  Rise

Bleary eyed and sleep deprived,
I rise.
Rise with the tide and morning glow
Rise with the wind and song of bird
I try, try to rise
But find
It’s not quite so easy.

To spring forth from bed
Like a green shoot from dampen earth,
I find to be rather hard without a cool and
Nourishing stream of love and comfort.