Just

Nothing can change what I did

Or the way I treated you

The smile I scraped off your face

Replaced with pain, and walked away

Leaving with teardrops

Bitter icicles that stained my face

Pierced my heart, let it bleed

A trail of heartache all the way home

I miss you every day

Cherry Garcia is no comfort food anymore

It doesn’t matter if I can buy it or not

So gripped by anxiety of waiting to know

Then when I turned around

Phish Food had disappeared

It was gone

Just when I exhaled my last cherry breath

Just like the tulips that wilt behind my back

Just like the snow that melts while I dream

Just like the sunlight that disappears in a sigh

Just like that

And maybe this is Justice

This cruel irony

This twist of fate

This unsure, nonrefundable deposit

Or maybe it’s Karma

Finally making her rounds

Troubling me like I’ve troubled you

Breaking my heart like I broke yours

It’s all coming back

You’ve let go

You’ve been

Numb

Angry

Hurt

Upset

Okay

Doing just fine

Great

Over it

And I’m stuck in a roulette

Of my own doing

This seemingly endless

Wheel of misfortune and debt

Nothing I can do

But wish for wings and a peaceful breeze

Sometimes we don’t know what’s best

Sometimes we’ve known all along

But have been afraid to admit it

Sometimes we just have to clear our minds

Stay away from the window

Instead of waiting—face pressed to glass—

For sunlight to come shining through the clouds

Grass is such a funny thing

Covered by snow in winter

Seems dead, hopeless, lost

Melting snow

—the very culprit of its dreadful state—

Gives it the drink

It has long been thirsty for

Revives it

Grass almost always comes back

No matter the yellow’d blades

The trampled, matted paths

No matter the freezing or scorching

It returns with Spring

Maybe that will be my Justice

Maybe Karma will make another lap

Maybe I’ll find that Phish Food

Maybe Spring will come

And with it

Maybe the grass will, too.

TL

1:08am

26 February 2004

Late-night Thoughts

A pending grumble in my empty stomach

Draws my attention to the lonely ache in my heart

Nothing is worse than the wait

Watching the seconds tick by

Between 1:48 and 2:00 in the morning

What am I doing awake, anyway?

Listening to Kenny Loggins

And wiggling my toes

In my Felix the Cat slippers

Somewhere in this sleepy little town

You continue on

Unaware of my lack of you

My hungry heart

Maybe you’re sleeping

Blissfully dreaming of someone else

While I cling to memories of you

All the little things you did for me

Sweet little gestures of kindness

Realities of your feelings

Even when I pushed you away

And hurt you

I remember your unselfishness

And I wonder why I couldn’t duplicate it

What prevented me

From ever serving you

And giving myself to you

Like you did to me?

It would be different

If I ever had the chance

Why did I tell you

There wouldn’t be another time?

That’s all I want

Another time

Just one more time

One that wouldn’t end

I still await the grumbling of my stomach

I missed the 2:00 turning of the clock

Now it’s 2:02 in the morning

And still I sit here

Sorting through feelings

And desires

And wishes

And regrets

And dreams

And the hunger that will not be filled

Might you still be awake

Running into thoughts of me?

Though I doubt it,

I can’t help crossing my fingers

Your dreams no longer include

This California girl who broke your heart

The only door I can enter into

Is marked by a big, black nightmare

I wish you would let me whitewash it

And smooth out that ugly scar

Gravity’s introduction to my eyelids is brief

Before it claims them for its own

Yet still I sit here

Waiting for a definite direction

And a suitable conclusion

Nothing comes

No grumbling stomach

No poetic words

No perfect ending

It’s just me

And a billion thoughts

And hopes

And dreams

And regrets

And wishes waiting for shooting stars

TL

2:15am

5 September 2004

My Grandmother's Couch

I compare myself

To my grandmother’s couch.

Comforting and familiar,

With a slightly dusty smell.

Always waiting in the same spot

For me to collapse into

After I drop my luggage.

It hugs me and supports me,

And lets me go when I have strength to stand.

Welcoming to the weary soldier

Longing for home.

But when it comes time to leave,

It’s not the couch I bid farewell

Or regret to leave behind.

Were I to have the chance,

I wouldn’t take it home with me.

It doesn’t belong as a permanent

Fixture in my life,

But exists as a two-week summer fling.

Yes, the couch and I are quite similar

In our situations.

We are loved and seen as a relief, a vacation,

Yet, sadly, undesired for a home.

TL

1:01am

22 October 2002

(mostly completed at 1:50pm, 21 October 2002)

Old Poem (Re: “Just,” 26 February 2004)

I found a poem from almost seven months ago

The strange thing is

It’s the poem I wanted to write this week

How did my words

My thoughts

My feelings

Find themselves in organization

On February 26?

I sat baffled as I read it

A little relieved

But also quite disappointed

It was like opening the cupboard for something to eat

But finding I had already consumed the entirety of its contents

My appetite in times past lead to my current hunger

And so the emptiness inside me will find no relief

Still I wonder about that poem

If I should leave it at that

Or if I should try to find more words

Another outlet, maybe

But I don’t have a way with colors (like you)

Or with music

Or with clay

Or with wood

Or even with words

All I can do is continue to eke out a paper existence

Though meager it may be

One other outlet I’ve found:

My tears

They shall not be an influence on you

Only a method for drowning my pain

Which, ironically, sharpens with each fallen tear

So it remains an old poem

Come to my keyboard seven months ago

Hidden behind my shame for a summer

But returned to me once my sight was restored

Just an old poem

Renewed with each tear I cry

TL

9:18pm

5 September 2004

Remembering You

Snow falls outside my unwashed window.

As it floats and flutters to the earth,

My thoughts turn to you,

Just as the earth will again turn to Springtime,

Forsaking the bleakness of cold winter nights.

Floodgates open,

Releasing memories I’ve been saving up for a night like this.

Rushing through me,

They quench the long-parching thirst from my drought of you,

Restoring strength to my tired body

And giving comfort to my aching soul.

Your musical spell weaves through my heart

Like our fingers danced together so many times.

Wind howls and carelessly tears through trees,

Searching and mourning for a lost love.

The darkened sky snivels and sobs,

Spitting down hail through her gnashing teeth.

Silent whip-cracks of lightning rip the sky open,

Followed by the agonized cries of a great tormented beast.

But your strong, unfailing arms wrap around me,

Staving off the furious storm,

Protecting me from its anger.

Your warm, gentle hands cup my face,

Smoothing away worry lines and raindrops

And turning my face towards the calming blue of your eyes,

Where the glory-crowned sun awaits its dawning moment,

Pointing me in the direction where I’ll find you.

The tempest rages on in a futile battle for the throne.

But my heart is not afraid,

For it remembers you well.

TL

2:31am

27 March 2003

River or Ocean

Collin Raye knows what he’s talking about

I sit here listening to “That Was a River”

Over and over again

And I can’t help wondering what would happen

If I played that song for you now on my knees

– My heart broken and sincere –

Or if it had spoken to me five or six months ago

But instead, I left your shores

And headed for other waters

They picked me up

Kissed my face

Gave me one wild ride

After another

Promising serenity

And an eternity of peaceful waves

But a residual heartache

– Caused by too many bumps

Threatening crags

Falls out of my raft –

Opened my eyes to the waterfall ahead

And the danger waiting at the bottom

I finally realized the purpose of my life vest

And thanked God for it

As I swam to the bank

Climbed out of the wild waters

Onto solid ground

And cried

Comforted by the sun

As it dried my tears

Freed me from the chill of four years

What I thought was the ocean

Ended up being just another rapid river

Carrying me farther and father away

From my intended destination

As it bruised me, broke me

And shook my faith in my own abilities

Now I stand amidst the rocks and trees

Unsure of the direction I should take

Following the river back to where I left you

Would take me nowhere

Your ever-moving waters already long gone

Exploring distant lands

And carrying other passengers

So I plunge into the forest

Surrounded by the smell of pine trees

And the quiet feeling of being alone

Hoping beyond hope

That I can find the ocean

Hoping beyond hope

That when I get there

I’ll find you

TL

7:10pm

8 September 2004

Shooting Star

I saw a shooting star tonight

And made a wish so very bright

Though fearing much to wish aloud

My eyes I closed, my head I bowed

And prayed to God with all my heart

That we would never be apart

But leaving all within His hands

I vowed to follow His commands

To be all He would have me be

And love His children, as does He

To go where He would have me go

And learn the things that I should know

Right now, “just friends” is all we are

But if you need, I’m not that far

If someday we should be together

I’d not let go; not now, not ever.

TL

2:25am

6 September 2004