Half Life

I have opened my eyes
every morning
for 13,951 days.

I am more than half way
through your life,
maybe also through
more than half of mine.

Every choice
is an avenue
where what I choose
can be the end
or beginning.

I freeze.
I can’t think.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t see
what road to pick
that will lead
home.

Home is not where
it used to be;
you’re not there.
I’m not there.

Everything feels
in between,
like a forgotten path
nobody travels anymore.

I feel separate,
alone,
lost in the middle
of what was
and what never will be
again.

Every day my eyes open
is a day I have not seen.
It is a day
you will never see,
another tick
on my calendar
of grief.

Time is a thief,
a disease of my mind.
The days keep
coming
and going,
coming
and going.

But you do not.
Someday
I will stop
and I wonder
if anyone
will miss me
as much as I miss you?

Silent Scream

There is no sunrise,
only rotation.
There is no sadness,
at least not that I can mention.
There is only silence,
a scream inside
I can never let out
like the painting -
frozen in color and pain.
I am orange, yellow, red -
flames curved around
an alien face
you can't see is me.
I open my mouth
and push out only air.

Yet I keep screaming.

Storm Surge

It came in waves
at first.

I'd duck under
or climb over,
tire myself out
with every effort.

Then, another hot slap
from the Atlantic
took me down,
sucked me in
until up
and the ground
weren't any different.

The air slipped
away
one bubble here,
twenty there.

My lungs burned
with the hunger
and pain
of wanting more.

I always want
more
when there's nothing
left.

No breath, no happiness,
it's all gone -
a sunken beach house
smashed to memories
by the storm;
an entire branch
of family
broken off
at the seams.

I am lost
because no one
sees me
disappear.

I scream
in the distance,
hands flailing,
body frantic,
but you
are never listening.

After three tries
I fail;
the water
recedes,
taking me
with it.

Our Past Has No Future

Blue eyes
Red lips
You always go
for the same thing.

Twenty years back
we knew it all,
but we were still babies
learning to crawl.

Life went on
until the bottom dropped out.
You showed up just in time
to drag me farther down.

I fell apart
and you let me fall;
you enjoyed the show -
it's your fatal flaw.

But time pushed us forward
and away from you I flew.
I was suffocating here
and underneath you.

I slipped away
and out of your life,
down the road
and across the miles.

Then I see you -
a stranger staring back at me -
smiling in familiar poses
with someone who's not me.

But something has changed;
you look different.
Your smile is wide and bright,
and there's no hint of diffidence.

You finally look happy,
which makes me happy too;
and I am finally free
from whatever I was to you.

We are a past without a present
or future to speak of,
but we have had our time
and it was more than enough.

Life In Color

You paint me
in black and grey,
then ask me
where the color
has gone?
Where is the yellow
in the blond
of my hair;
where is the blue
of my eyes
you imagined
when looking
at the ocean?
I cannot say.
The palette
was never mine
to choose the paint.
I live somewhere
between the light
and dark
of your mind
and heart,
a place color
cannot go
because you
never chose
to live outside
the shadows.

Perspective

I dreamt I died
and you didn't care;
it was just more drama
you didn't need.

It was just a dream
but it was also true.
It wasn't real
but it was still
me and you.

Why can't I
be drama-free
the way I am -
man-free, child-free,
success-free?

This is what you see
and think
and believe
right?

But this is not who I really am.

I don't fit the image
you've worked hard
to create.
I don't understand
how full your plate
stays
or how to save
and plan
and wait
for life to work
the way you need
it to.

I'm not in tune
with your needs,
your goals,
your pain,
your hopes.

They aren't mine;
they are yours
which is fine
until it's not.

I don't know you
the way you pretend
to know me.
I don't say words
out loud I can't unspeak.
I don't use my mouth
to shove your face
to the ground
when you're already
on your knees.

I don't turn your good deeds
into crimes
to justify my inadequacies
or anonymity.

I show up.
I stand up.
I shut up.
I shut down.
I take the blame.
I swallow the pain.

And I believe
if I was gone
a part of you
would feel relief.