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Silence's Wake

Sometimes silence is just right. Like when you are in a house full of people And all you want is to be left alone. And sometimes it is deafening. Tonight, it is the kind That slices through muscle and fiber And lodges itself deep within you— The moment you realize what alone  Really feels like— When you thought the white noise was quiet— Until someone turned the static off. And you felt your loneliness reverberate And echo in your chest.  And the pain of silence slices through The hope that maybe tonight, In the stillness of our home, You would look me in the eyes, Absorb the pounding pain  Emanating from my temples, Hold my face between your fingers And whisper,  "I'm here. I don't know how to fix the shards, Put back the shattered pieces of what's broken… I can't make it better, But I'm here.” Instead, I brushed my teeth in silence. I washed my face in silence. I took medicine and slipped into the...
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Sanctum

I long for the place of   Sanctuary in our souls,  Where wounded limpers Gather for asylum- Rallied round the broken hearts Of people who will listen, Lend ear to the lonely And whisper, “Me too.” I long for the place of  Mindful refuge, Where we step inside  The candle-lit shadows  Of imperfect reflections- And in echoing halls of holy spaces, Make peace with ourselves And break bread instead. I long for the place of Communion in our words, Conviction in our hearts- Where we gather round the table, Kneel at the time-worn altar, And pray for unity As madmen cry for Freedom. I long for the place of Creating sacred spaces- Straddling freeway crusades: We pitch tent in the median, Look each other in the eye, And listen to the fullness  Of beauty in silence Of loudness in lonely.  I long for the place of Sanctuary in our souls. Where pain-marked identities Find freedom in tears....
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Safety is an Oxymoron

I put a safety pin in my pocket today. And that feels dangerous. Too many unanswered questions for too long; it feels unbearable. And just in case I break, I am prepared. Why is my personality predisposed to pain?  Why can't I be content? With anything. With everything.  I am a four. Romantic Individualist.  I want you to notice me. I want your validation. That I am unique. Special. But when you give it, it will never be enough.  Because my root sin is envy. I think you have something I am missing. Answers maybe? Or maybe it's just the fact that I will never be enough.  And if I can't be enough, dammit, no one else will be either.  Profoundly melancholic- my favorite thing about myself and yet my Achilles heel. Maybe that's why, when I used to cut myself with safety pins, I cut in patterns. A beautiful bloodletting. Was it more about the beauty or the pain? Someone, please take the safety pin in m...
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A Ship in the Night

What of a dream,  Surreptitiously dreamt, Bent on confusion, On passion that’s spent? What of a dream  Whispered faintly in ear Dropped wistfully, woefully  Worshipfully near? Echoes of longing  Ring dreadfully down Reverberate shadows Melancholic, profound. Where did you come from? Where have you been? Hidden 6 foot under— Denial within. Too deeply entrenched Too wistfully warped Too terribly close And too fearfully sharp. This shadow of souls The mystery of me A puzzle I’ve puzzled  Since my ABC’s.  Enthralled with enigma Imagination confounds Both the head and the heart; Discovery rebounds. The passion decides What the mind will recall Yet teases comprehension Sans wherewithal. I gather the flowers Yet they wilt in my hands Mere corpses of memories Grasping wisps of sand. To fall or to falter After shapes in the night: Seems ghoulish, redundant Paranoic delight. And yet they ...
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