Things are rarely
what you think
they pretend to be.
Do not mistake
a perception
for reality.
Surviving and thriving
are two different things.
Entirely.
Patch
Tag: Relationships
Work in Progress
She understood the fold of the fabric now.
Stiff and relentless.
Whispering hard secrets.
Every hem has its tell.
Threading through resistance.
The needle’s eye
will take you back.
With time
you will mend.
Once you figure out how important imperfection is,
the growing can begin.
What do you mean you don’t believe in Mothman…
To each their own truth…
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snip
Sometimes when I am in the past,
I can see the things that were meant to be.
A shrewd and subtle foreboding persists there, collecting dust.
We all played our parts in it,
made sacrifices and surrendered endlessly to it.
Greedy for attention and simple recognition of
how special we really were.
Everyone watching and waiting then,
learning how to survive.
Slaves to ambition,
slinging drinks and talking shit.
We were deep in hope then,
tremendously alive.
I never did fit it quite right
Rest easy old friend, when you need to find me
I’ll be in solace tucked, quietly away.
Sidelines, garden sheds, corners in the shade.
A place where the noise can’t touch
in the light of day.
I never did fit in quite right,
awkward and aloof.
My mind, simple and demanding
collecting stories and sorting truths.
I have always been an apt pupil
at ease in solitude.
The translation of this has long been mocked
and called by many names:
Lack of confidence,
severe shyness,
a consequential guilt.
Fear,
arrogance,
and my favorite mishap, shame.
I call it self-possessed
by my own name.
Rest easy old friend,
for time has surely shown,
I will be here in the end
just as I have always been.
Embedded in a quiet
of the mind
I call home.
I never did fit in quite right
and you are not alone.
Mistletoe
The dung twig sprouts
and the spotted Owl sings.
There is joy to be had
in old beginnings.
fade
When all is said
and all is done,
we were two
made into one.
We did this growing,
in secret, we did.
When no one was watching,
and the seasons were still.
We faded into ourselves,
together
on this hill.
