Whenever I see a white Honda

I foolishly hope it’s you

I’m constantly trying to conjure up

Pieces of you in my mind

Well, that’s a lie

I don’t have to strain

It’s in the way I smile sometimes

Or while reading aloud

And then wondering when we’ll finish

I’ve come to realize

That it’s not that I want

A part of you

A part you cannot share

It is not as if we are lines in a will

Awaiting dissection and deliberations

Then doled out to those deemed

“Most deserving”

And in learning to distance myself

From acting out of guilt

I’ve realize that the freedom from you

May never come.

Not that I feel guilty

Or you cause guilt

But because it is the contrary

I feel no obligation

Not for your happiness

Nor your well being

I desire them both

But I do so freely

And all these thoughts

Passing a white Honda.

I’m putting to rest the possibilities

The half truths and lies I told myself

I’m letting them age and grow yellow

Like unread newspapers

Ink faded and photographs all but gone.

I’m burning the letters you never sent

Not because you didn’t write them

But because you never even tried

To write the words you were so afraid of.

I’m clearing my mind of recollections

Mixed and twisted reflections

Broken down misinterpretations

Of what I meant to you.

I’m putting it all in past tense

Passed tension no longer welcome

In a life that no longer includes

A possibility of more than fleeting

Fleeing moments kept in seclusion.

I’m sorry

But I can’t keep thinking of you

With your half hearted glances

Full hearted dances

And mischief ever in your eyes.

You were my great enigma

Even as your poured your sorrows

Into my open arms

But, I can no longer hold you

My heart is too full

And my memories too tainted

With your smile.

Do you ever notice

How the things we say with little thought

Can carry so much weigh?

Steel anchors held aloft

With naught but airy sentiments

Bearing down on heart and mind.

We parade our inner voices

In caricatures of empathy,

As charades best left silent.

Capricious poison

With ill effect

And not an antidote in sight.

Observe your words

Similes, metaphors and all;

Strip them to the bare thought

Drag them into the light of day

Measure their worth and impact

With more than a glance over

Emitted with a short laugh.

Do us all a favor and favor

Thought before speech.

Simple words with simple voices

Reaching out to touch

Brushing ears with fragrant music

Signals evening’s dusk.

Speak to me of untold whispers

Strengthen me with love

Hold me down with fervid wonder

Sing to me of touch.

Poetry in lines will mingle

Swaying hither still

Sleeping now in union’s slumber

Till morning’s rays unseal.

Your fingers were scarlet

Tracing lines upon my back

Like letters to a pen pal

That never replied

Etching secrets like lyrics

Against the spine

Scars laid out in white shadows

Like a book you never though you’d read. 

Our mouths spoke love,

But our ears were still ringing

From the internal screaming

To which we subjected ourselves.

Too afraid to fight back

Against the only ones

Who seemed to care about ourselves.

My anger lies not with the ignorant,

But with systematic ignorance.

Not with the sheep,

But with the false shepherds.

Not with advancing pawns,

But the hands that move them.

Sometimes apathy

Is all I have to offer

Once you’ve drained me so.

Breathe

Quiet the words that arise

Strike the record

Wring out in puddles

Ring out in silence

Echoing drops like rain

Reigning like pretender kings

Kinks and knots tying down

Restraining and retraining the mob

Crowding out the voices that sing

Singling out only those that agree

A greed unwelcome but accepted

Excepted from a list of sins

Not seen as wrongs

Against the unarmed

Unharmed by mere sentences

Sentenced to life in ignorance

Ignored by masses

Amassed in Mass

Masterfully worshiping reflections

Reflecting not

Seeing image without form

Unstructured observance

From without, not within

Withered stances

Decaying in the wind.