I battle the demon damn near every night
The morning alarm says I'm sober
I don't believe it
Then, the guilt sets in
Evidence is on the face I see in the mirror
Bruised nose from the toilet
My glasses caked with something not worth celebrating
Something not worth remembering
But I do


You know what, I'm sick of this shit
I admit, I regret I allowed myself
To be inflected with this sickness
But guilt isn't such a bad thing
It's the acknowledgement of wrong doing
They say ignorance is the best defense
I feel acceptance is the best offense
Accept the guilt, learn from it & move right on along

The ice is melting
The cup is sweating
The whiskey is screaming
It's been willingly abandoned

Rest assured up above, Father
I hear you


Shards of What Was

Through the wall he could hear the contained, clangorous sound of his sister vomiting into a pan;
through the window, he could hear his dad’s truck peel out the driveway & on down the cul-de-sac.
She cried herself sick; he left.
The sounds entered through different ears & collided in his brain with such force
that an explosion of frustration overtook him in the form of clenched fists & teeth.
The remnants of the blast was evident in his emerald eyes
as he sat in the chair at his desk, alone.
He wanted to move away from it all,
but he knew that wouldn’t help anything.
No, nothing can help when help is not wanted.
“Is she okay?” he asked his mother.
“She’ll be all right. Did he leave?”
“What does it matter? The damage has been done.”
He was wrong.

* * * * * * *

She tended her frantic daughter, calmed her, then retired to her bed.
She looked at the pictures on the walls of a once-shared room.

* * * * * * *

He returned to his desk, put his head in his hands.
Moments later, another explosion:
this one was outside of his head.
He pushed away from the desk, ran toward his mother,
but he was too late.
Shattered glass covered the beige carpet in a thin layer,
like virgin snow on an unsuspecting desert.
Tears & blood mixed in with the shards.
She was not herself.
Rage poured out in stuttering breaths.
Blood trickled down her arms,
the trails coiling around like a double helix.
The images and memories were woven into her being, her DNA.
She did not want them there.
For a few moments she sat cross-legged atop her own destruction,
head bobbing with the sobbing.
She then took notice of the blood,
took notice of her son standing in the doorway.
The memories had been painfully removed from their frames,
from their glass borders.
Maybe now she will finally let them go.
“Clean this up, I’ll get some band aids,” was all he could utter.
On his way out the house, he shut his sister’s door,
sheltering her from the images of her own home.

* * * * * * *

The ending of an end is just another beginning.


Our Time

How rude it is to keep beauty waiting
I guess I’m hesitant to get lost in amazing

* * * * * * *

It seems strange, this waiting game
I know you will change me
and I know it will be for the better
I shouldn’t be afraid of progress
I shouldn’t overthink
something, someone
that is permanently imprinted
into my thought process
These thoughts and feelings
will eventually evolve into actions
I’ve become complacent in my patience, though
and I guess the answer to this lovely riddle
is a question:
What are we waiting for?

It’s time we realized it’s our time.


An Unusual Acquaintance

On a highway day drive in April, I befriended a June bug
We got off to a tumultuous beginning
I flicked him out the driver window, but he stuck around for the ride
I tested him, he responded, I respected
He calmly clung to the rearview mirror
And we began to reveal a bit about our pasts
He said his kind gets a bad rap, are considered pests
But they didn't seem that bad to me
He said he had a bad batch with his woman, needed a new start
“I’m glad you’re headed elsewhere” he said
“Because that’s exactly where I’m headed”
He mentioned something about the ubiquitous eyes above
Something about the crows grubbing on his grubs
He told me his woman didn’t trust him anymore
She said he could no longer protect
“How can I fend off a crow?” he helplessly wondered aloud
“It’s beyond my control”
“It’s beyond your control”
He told me his name was Jim
Jim the June bug, has quite the jingle
We easily kept the conversation moving along for a bit
He was a quick witted little fellow
I wished we could have more time
But “I only have a year to live,” he said 
“I don’t have time to waste any of mine”
He reminded me of the beauty of sometimes winging it
We went along for a while – at least a mile – in silence
The comfortable kind, though
The kind only two true friends could enjoy
“Well,” he said
"This is the end"
"I guess I'll be going"
I wished him the best of luck
He did the same to me
With a flick of his wings he was gone
Now I don't know if he gracefully caught a draft
Or if he crashed his ass right into the pavement
Ether way, Glenn H. Curtiss* would be proud
Come to think of it, I was proud of him, too
I hoped his new start was the right one
In a place where the grass is green
The lady bugs are pretty
And the crows, a little less dense

* * * * * * *

*Curtiss' "Flight of the June Bug" in 1908 was the first pre-announced flight in America. 


This College Town

I see movement,
living in this college town
People coming home, going,
people trying to get out
We’re all here to go somewhere else,
persevering the present to propel our futures
Ubiquitous buses roar across town,
filling the silence of day,
protruding the silence of night
Silence is such a profound sound

Living in a college town,
introductions go amiss
First impressions are so very valuable in this land of strangers
Silence is such a profound sound,
especially when it follows such a simple question
“What’s your name again?”
“. . . uhm . . .
. . . uhm . . .
. . . . . . . . . .”

Living in a college town,
I don’t feel the same
when I can’t even say my own name
It’s easy to lose yourself in the campus crowds
Straight A’s fail to sway my dismay
Success will never be
enough to make up for the faults
These are the words of a pessimistic perfectionist
These are the words of a stuttering perfectionist

Today, though, as I look out the bay windows,
I realize all the negativity is just me
You find out a lot about yourself – through success, through failure –
living in this college town
Here, you have to get on a bus to go anywhere,
and you have to step outside
your comfort zone to hitch a ride
I will reach my destination
When I do, I won’t need to say my name –
everyone who I want to know will already know it

When you feel as if you’ve lost your way,
press replay, because you’ve done it all before
And you can do it again
Listen to the voice within
Learn from who you’ve been
Fight hard for who you want to become
This starts for me right here, right now,
in this college town 


Thunderstorm Thoughts

The smell of burning fields fills up the night
Aromas ignite the darkness
The Sky shows its might
Strike after strike
Illuminating my room with strobing hues of blue
Bullets of rain ricochets off the windows
The metallic ting interrupted by electric eruptions
Fierce bolts of lightning light
Reveals clandestine outlines of black clouds
Neon arms reach down

 I ignore the time
I turn off the lights
Open all the curtains
I'm going to sit back and enjoy the show
I often forget that I have a front row seat
I often forget that I'm merely a wondering witness 
of this wonderful world

Washington State University Lightning Storm Pullman, Washington. A lightning storm forks over Washington State University. Ryan McGinty Photography Copyrighted. All rights reserved.


Good morning, beautiful

The truth about truth
is it always lies
That’s what we have come to realize
If you only knew…
I will believe in you
but only if you want me to
Only if you want me, too

Truth be told
No need to stifle your soul
I love you so, so much
How do I feel this way
if, day after day
all we have is a crush?
Destined to pursue
what I can’t continue
I know how you feel
You want your reflection
to reflect perfection –
fake if it wasn’t so real
Self-test after self-test
has you feeling restless
I’m here to say you passed
No multiple-choice guess
when I can write an essay
on how you’re better than the rest

The truth about truth
is it always lies
That’s what we have come to realize
If you only knew…
I’ll believe in you
but only if you want me to
Only if you want me, too

You shy away from pain
I try to do the same
We’re more alike than you think
Relying on instincts
I don’t mean to be mean
when I pick my scene
We’ve been apart,
we’ve had to restart...
as some would say
"we have come along a long way"
but day and night
you’re always on my mind
I invite you to stay
But, I’ve got a debt with doubt
“It will never work out”
Please, tell me otherwise
Good morning, beautiful
wake up and realize
Good morning, beautiful
I think it’s time we realized

The truth about truth
is it always lies
That’s what we have come to realize
If you only knew…
I will believe in you
but only if you want me to
Only if you want me, too


All Jokes Aside

Relationships are like tectonic plates:
sometimes they shift,
and when they do,
it shakes the ground beneath you.
Realize that this is just a simile, though,
because you can’t be at fault
for settling in the fault zone.

It’s only human that we fall in love,
but when we do,
where exactly are we falling from?

A relationship
shouldn't be a leap of faith,
it should be a grasp of the right hands.
The lovely mystery
is sometimes hard to understand.
My answer to my relationship riddle
is not ground-breaking,
it's just me.

As silly as it sounds,
we’re all looking for someone who we can be comfortable with being silly around.