Eyes

I tried to live my life
Like you never existed
But you always
Showed up on my doorstep
And reflected
Yourself in my mirror.
I looked into my eyes
And saw
You staring back.
Each dark brown streak
That etched itself
Into my irises
Whispered
Of hands that had touched me
Before the doctor
Dragged me from my
Mother’s safe womb
On that
Fateful day.
Every curl that bounces
Rebelliously out of place
Hints
At a forethought.
You follow me down
The hallways
And
I can feel and taste
Your presence
But when I turn around
You’re not there.
I wake up and
I know you’re watching me,
I can feel
Your eyes on me,
But you’re never there.
How can I deny my existence
When you keep
Assuring me that
I am so alive?
You cause rain to
Burst forth from my eyes
And my heart races
At your touch.
How can I deny you?
You push me beyond boundaries
I’ve never seen before
Just by whispering,
“Michaela…I love you.”
How can I deny you?
Spilling forth words
That have never materialized
Before,
That no human as expressed
In such a way as this one,
You dare me to try,
To bend,
To taste,
To push,
To break,
To love.
You take off
Layers of blindfolds that
The sightless have wrapped
Around my
Naïve eyes,
Revealing
Parts of me that
Would be more comfortable
Hidden in my closet
And depths of me
That I never knew
Lay so kindly.
You break through culture,
Through norms,
Through clichés,
Through “political correctness”,
Through ignorance,
Through politeness,
Through piety
And through false hope
To bring about a love that
Shatters every evil and fallacy.
You teach my sad lips how to smile,
Claiming me as your own,
Selling everything to buy the field
Where the treasure is buried.
How can I refuse you?
How can I pretend you have never been?
How can I deny my existence?
How can I deny you?

The Hourglass

I’m just a fool.
Stupid.
I smile thinking about you,
Thinking about the heart ache,
The pain,
The snow that gently falls
But delivers a brutal frostbite.
My heart hurts!
My insides are squirming.
My stomach is forming knots.
Tears lurk behind my eyes.
Screams crawl up my throat.
Vomit pools.
Sadness settles.
Silence lingers.
Madness curdles.
Angst reaches.
Laughter teaches.
Your eyes burn holes in my skull.
Your name is an ice pick cracking my ribs.
Dissatisfaction paves the road.
Desire’s an acid that burns away my sanity.
Words unsaid haunt me.
My vision blurs the line between right and wrong.
A quick email,
Just one,
I swear my fingers will fly.
Just three words;
Soft, gentle, sudden, impoverished words.
Just three.
It takes all the strength inside of me
To hold back from making a dire mistake,
A desired mistake.
I want to be ignorant.
I want you to conscious.
Wake up!
I want there to be answers.
I want to know the paths of all alternatives.
I want my desires to prevail.
I want to win.
But it’s selfish to desire my desires.
“Love is not self-seeking”.
So I will let you dream.
Then we both can win.

Walking on Heartstrings

You took my heart and
Pulled at every fiber and every string.
I watched as I came undone again.
As broken as they come,
I let the chips fall as they may.
You reached in
And touched moments,
Times and places
That I let lie dead.
I was perfectly okay with “dead”.
Dead never moved.
Dead never haunted.
Dead never cursed
Or daunted me.
Dead never rose up from the mire
And transformed
Before my eyes.
Dead neither propelled
Or hung back.
Dead was dead.
Dead was rest.
But nonetheless,
You found it suitable
To rip me open again
And again.
Let the tears fall.
Let the pain come like a tsunami:
Sudden, quick, alarming, frightening, inescapable.
But in the ache
I found restoration.
And in the quake
I lost the pictures that
Hung on my heart’s wall.
They fell.
They shattered.
And in the midst
Of doubt and uncertainty,
In a time where
Fathers were few and far between,
You were walking on my heartstrings.

Burning tears. Fierce tears.

Wow. I haven't posted a poem in ions! I'm sorry. I just haven't written anything. Please forgive me. Here's my newest one:

I’m finding empty glasses,
Scattered around my room
And shattered in pieces.

Where does your
Heart go after it dies?

I keep shivering
In a blazing fire.
I keep weeping
In the pouring rain.
I look in my rear-view mirror,
Hoping to see
A friendly face.
I glance at the passenger seat.
I’m alone again.

I wish I could turn around
And find you there.

I sit
In my car,
Pouring my heart out
And crying hot tears,
Fierce tears,
Fiery tears,
Painful tears,
Tears that pooled
At the bottom,
The depth of my soul.
But the tears keep falling
And I keep hearing…

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

If there’s an answer,
Give it.
If there’s a rebuke,
Say it.
If there’s love,
Pour it out on me.
If there’s disappointment,
Look away.
If there’s peace,
Hug me.
If there’s anger,
Let it run loose.

Don’t leave me in silence.
Don’t leave me to my imagination.

Don’t leave me.

From the Heart of the Fire

Inspired by Deuteronomy 9:10 (NLT).

I was there,
Forty days and forty nights,
Forty hearts and forty fights.
You held my hand
And I took out a knife
To cut up the cloud
That covered my life.
But life was just that sand
That slipped
Through my fingers.
Those nights,
Those crazy nights,
I dared you to linger,
To whisper,
To seduce me a little longer,
To burn,
To hunger,
But you just sauntered
In and out, through and between
All my dreams and things unseen.
Those forty days,
Those forty nights…
Some would say
I was a liar
For saying you spoke to me.
You spoke to me
Through fire and rain and tears
And pain and fears.
Your voice was clear as day.
You shook me.
You broke me.
You touched me.
You recreated me.
You never changed.
You sung to me.
You hummed to me.
And just like the loudest
Of angelic choirs,
You spoke to me
From the heart of the fire.

Do Not Go Gentle by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

My heart leaps up when I behold by William Wordsworth

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.