Tonight

Put down your tears
there's no time for those
when you're living life
like this.

And that pain you feel
is just in your heart
and you'll live through
another night.

Emptiness Inside

Don't say I'm sorry
one more time.
Don't look at me
with that look in your eyes.
Don't hold my hand,
don't kiss my cheek,
don't remember me.

Don't say empty words,
I don't hear them anyway.

You say all the right things
and yet
your actions don't follow through.

Let's get angry,
and yell at each other
and say things we don't mean.
After,
we'll make empty promises
saying that we'll change,
we'll be stronger,
we won't hurt each other anymore.

But the words are empty,
and fall upon deaf ears.

We both know nothing will change,
so we don't yell,
we don't get angry.
We sit in our silence,
understanding the other
in that great misunderstanding
that we share.

We sit in our silence.

The silence I fell in love with.
The silence I miss the most,
the expressionless meaning,
the sweet contradiction
of what is not said
and what is not heard.

I believe your silence.

So don't speak.
Don't say I'm sorry.

And we'll sit in our silence.

together.

Our Elements

It started in a field by the river
and then grew into a forest by the waterfall
soon we were conquering open water.

And when we felt the wind
we let ourselves be taken by it.

The storms blew us
and threatened to break us,
but the sun came back out
and we clung to what was important.

The wind still blows,
the storms still rage,
and the rivers still dance in their beds.
The stars still shine through the clouds
and the sun still rises in the morning.

Land and water,
both have stood between us
using time as their weapon.

But we have lived them all,
with still so many more miles to go.

I like to go back to that beginning sometimes
when the summer was young
and so were we,
as we laid there and listened to the river.

Wandering Love

Be careful
when you fall
in love
with the wanderer.

Be careful
when you fall
in love
with the artist.

Be careful
when you fall
in love
with the reader.

They create grand ideas
and have
even grander plans.

The need
for the wind
in their hair
never goes away.

It pulls in their heart
every single day
in a way
that cannot
be ignored.

They never think
of where they are
as where they are.

There is always another story
another world
around them.

They walk in a daze,
they walk in a dream.

And whoever can wake them
will challenge the wind,
will challenge the thoughts,
and the worlds,
and the words.

They will wander,
lost in this new happiness
found in reality.

They will wander between here
and there,
torn between
their loves.

So be kind
when you fall
in love with
the wanderer,
and the artist,
and the reader,
be patient when they
lose themselves
in their thoughts.

Be kind,
and patient,
and trust
that they will always
come back to you.

No matter
how far they go
in their mind.

No matter
how far they travel
away from you.

they will come home.

my silent friend

your pages are all full,
and yet pictures still fill my head
pictures that you would enjoy
and protect.

i've never bonded to an object
quite like this before.

this is my story.
and my story goes on,
our story goes on.

it will take many more pages
in many more books
before my story is ended.

my story
is a poem
about the stars falling
as i hold your hand
in the cool grass
the place i go back to
the place where
my life changed

without me even realizing it.

my story
is staying up
long after everyone is sleeping
battling myself
over too many thoughts in my head.

my story
is chaos
and simplicity.

and scary decisions
and childish goals

it is short-term sights
on long-term goals

it is you and me
and feeling time rush past us
as the world stands still.
caught in a place of our own.


all these words i would write... and now it is time for something i have never done before, now you stand open beside me.  i'm scared, but confident.
so tonight, i will spend one more night with all your secrets to myself.

and tomorrow is a new day,
but thank you for all the nights.
my leatherbound.

Sometimes words is all we have.

Dark clouds,
grey days,
I look up
and the rain comes down.

I cry,
we hope,
we hold
onto each other.

No words,
no actions,
no where to go,
that doesn't remind me of you.

Dark clouds,
grey days,
the rain comes down,
always falling.

It feels like I'm
always falling.

The days
pass by,
in a haze.

People come,
and go,
and whisper to each other.

They wonder
what to do.
I wonder
what to do.

And the rain still falls,
I feel I'll never see
the sun again.

Never feel it's rays,
never see your smile.

Even though
I know,
the sun will come back out,
and I will smile again.

Even with the dark clouds,
and the grey days,
and the rain that
washes away my tears.




   My heart is with you, my dear friend in this dark time.  You are an amazingly strong person and you have everyone behind you, supporting you.  Always know that you are never alone.  You have touched so many people's lives and we are all here for you, no matter where you are.
   All my love.

Written in the Sand (circa 2009)

There is a line,

A line no one is supposed to cross. That’s the way it is, that’s the way it has always been. But I have crossed the line; I looked at the small town fading away into the background in my review mirror and gunned my engine.

My getaway car was a ’69 white Chevy pick-up truck, the paint was peeling and the gas pedal stuck, but it took gas and went moderately fast… it went fast enough to get me out of this forsaken hole of a town.

Away from the family owned grocery store, away from the bait shop, away from the school and everyone I’ve known for my entire life. Away from everyone that knows my whole life.

I only stopped for gas, I wasn’t hungry and there was no one to force me to eat. The highway stretched before me.

Night. I was one of the few cars still driving, even the truckers had stopped for the night. But I wasn’t tired, and I still wasn’t far enough away from that town.

The highway stretched before me in a vast, empty plain. The stars shone above, and the moon kept me company as I drove.

Maybe I was being unfair; maybe I should give that rotten hole another—

What am I saying?!? I’ve given that place enough of my life.

I drove.

And drove.

And drove.

And drove.

I sang along with the radio, got some more gas and drank 5 cups of coffee, black.

The sun rose in a pale pink and golden cloud. Mist covered lakes and the world was waking up.

I drove without a thought.

Without a worry or a care in the world, except where the next gas station was. The highway was home to me, where I belonged.

I reached the ocean some time the next evening. The waves were crashing onto the shore. It was rhythmic and soothing, like driving on the highway. I parked my truck and got out of the cab. It felt good to stretch my legs.

I slipped off my shoes and buried my feet in the warm sand. It was quiet, only the waves and the distant yells of a neighboring beach. I crossed the sand and went right up to the tide line and watched the wave’s crash onto the shore. The foamy water splashed my toes, and buried my feet in the cool, wet sand.

I freed myself form the sand and bent down.

I wrote the familiar letters into the cool wet sand, I wrote the name of the stupid town.

I formed the letters quickly, and neatly.

The next wave came,

And the word washed away.

And all that was left was the smooth brown sand.

And there was nothing left of the chains that held me.