this again.

looking for an answer on tv

in dreams

in strangers

in comfort

in laughter

in absolute trust and expectation for those who get too close

i am sorry for who i am

that i am weak

that i care too much

i have begun to clench my jaw again, and the endlessly nervous feeling wrenching my heart around

if you don't leave me alone, i will act

and it will be so bad

and so so so so so so so good

and my words are those of 1st grader because my vocabulary has been expended on review sheets and comprehension

its easy as 1 2 3

a b c

give me my report card, and tell me what to see

el paso.

a mismatch of people, like a ragged warm quilt. surrounding me, supporting me, influencing my

steps.

to stand, i discern and balance all that i hear to protect my malleable mind, taking care not to lose myself in red hair, yoga mats, and articles.

for it is not the goal, but the journey: that journey of independence, silence, and solitude in the morning.

my face forms a calm, pleased person whom i know as myself, resting in the depths of possibility and the fragility of tomorrow.

and on this tight-wire i will stand, clinging on to the air in front of me, hoping for the new day and assurance of forever.

door. open. pockets.

chilly wind carves out our jawlines and sharpens our cheekbones, as the wind fills in the empty spaces inside our jackets. rushing inside as snowflakes melt off our eyelashes, likes tears. and we cry over the big things to miss the little flakes left on our shoulders, clinging to us for distance.

pity for the foolish man.

to those who do not have time:

your oblivious, ignorant attitude while cause your eyes to lose sight, and your hearts to harden. pity for the foolish man. instead, nod your heads to the powerful speaker and laugh. for i will smile and sing when i feel you can see me, pitying the fool while praying for ignorance.

"you embarrass me. you embarrass yourself"

december two.

for now, the snow is clean and light

i ask for no expectation.

the sun has gone down twice, and already i am changed

not in age or stature

but in inner countenance and memory

number means nothing, i suppose

yet how ironic that as soon as i reach this threshold i want nothing to do with it

from bleeding, panting, sweating, and shouts

i have come

kissing a book

repressing an earthly concept of love

and daring the wind to chase me

kneeling and reading

conservative to liberal

judgment to humility

i ask for a transformation of my inner most heart,

as long as i know that someone pursues me

i ask for no expectation

just a changed heart.

whole and full.

thus it is perpetuated.

you got your yearly fix, and i was sad to hear your cries.

but i was happy to catch your tears and collect them in a bowl to dump with the rain.

washed away.

we seldom are alone, but it is in those moments before we truly awake that we are us.

but when someone else can see those threads of true stretched across our expressionless faces, we find friendship.

whole.

a little empty, but whole. covered.

we will climb these days like endless stairs, but when we reach the top, we will be whole and full.

whole and full.