miles apart 

Are we fools?

Should we be together? Should I beg you to be here? Should I promise forever?Or should we listen to logic and reason and fear?

When I casually tell people about you and
they instantly realize how much I love
you it makes me wonder.

It makes me love you more.
And makes me want to run away.

I’m afraid of hurting…both you and me. So my mind says to run…and my heart says to never break again…while my soul says “I am yours”.

My body wants to be inside yours. But my world is a complex disaster.
I want to grab your hand and run through fields like children in the sun.
To catch fireflies together, when nightfall comes. To hold you close and wipe tears from your face as my eyes weep on their own…

Are these just dreams of the young? Has this world hardened us? Have we experienced to much pain to ever trust again?

I ask as though I am risking anything, when it’s you who has everything on the line; and I will not apologize for loving you.

But I am sorry.
I loved another first. And she has my children.
Which leaves us miles apart.

miles apart 

you wish i hated you

my mouth talks
my legs walk
fuck rhymes 

i’m an asshole
it’s all we agree on
because i don’t deny my faults
but keep running away
and i’ll help you on 

Bitch!

i made you feel
i finally made you feel
every word
the rejection i grant you
validates your pain 

i am your mother
your father
i am the reason you had to leave
i’m the next link on the chain
that your fingers slide past
on their way
to find the next one who will get
within arms length

only to
have you
have them
hurt you

so you can run away

Bitch!
it’s a gift i give
Bitch!

and you’ve waited so long
validation
confirmation

now you can blame me
for leaving me
goodbye

who’s the next victim to get:
to close to hurt
you!
to close to touch
you!
to close to cause
you
to run!

Bitch? 

you aren’t. but fuck it. we both feel better when we pretend you are. 

you wish i hated you

Not Your Presi…

Yes, he is your president. He’s my president. He’s the president of all Americans. The fact that he is misogynistic and narcissistic and racist and everything else does not change the fact that he is your president.

And you know why he is your president? Because we voted for him.

No. Not you. And certainly not I. But we. The people. So please, put down your Dump Trump signs and ask yourself? Is this pussy willing to grab back against all the Americans who voted for him?

Will this pussy grab back against a Democratic Party that put Hillary fucking Clinton as their nominee?

Will this pussy still be grabbing back if the economy improves? If that dick puts more money in your pussy pocket?

You don’t have to like him…hell, i’d judge you harshly if you did, but he is our president…and he deserves a chance to…

Oh who am I kidding.  Let’s burn this fucker down!

Not Your Presi…

rain

There’s something broken in me
Something small that hurts large
It barely takes a breath to knock me to my knees

I am broken.

It’s a hurt, a pain, and years of memories. 
The difference between “i love you” and “I’m in love with you”
has little to no meaning.

Love doesn’t matter. Love was meaningless.
all that remains is all that breaks
my heart. my soul. my life…

I hate this brokeness…caused by love…caused by your rejection. 

So i look back. to go back. to see the path and repair what remains
yet back looks black and
back is black and white

i can see clearly now
picture perfect rain is falling down
i look back and see nothing
i look forward but am blind
rain is the only direction i see

down.

rain

I got a voucher

I boarded the plane with a child
in my seat so I offer to exchange
window for middle
I’m a father myself, you know.

What do I care? It’s 2 hours to LAX
the attendant offers me the isle at 23c

but it’s closer to my boss and
i want a triple vodka and no worries as
that’s the best for drinking
too much, with out care

they say it’s suicidal to drink yourself to death
but i’m dying anyway

someday I’ll kick this habit
someday I’ll acknowledge my reality
and will never deny myself a drink again

for now though I’ll squeeze in
tucked between two strangers waiting
until my drunk arrives.

It’s just a carpet convention after all.

I got a voucher

Lies

“You believe a lot of lies about yourself”…

He grabbed his coat and notebook and walked away. His words, however, stayed.  Seated at the table with me.

“You believe a lot of lies about yourself”…

It wasn’t just the words but the way they were spoken. Matter of fact. A statement. Not a question of “do you?” or a suggestion of “you may” but simply a fact: “You believe”…

And lunch was over and the statement wasn’t made for me. No. It was a fact for him. As though he found the clarity that I was seeking. As though he could see there was nothing left to say until I could see…

I believe a lot of lies about myself.

I’ve often said, there is no reason to be offended. If someone says something about you that is true and you don’t like it, change it. If what they say isn’t true they’re a liar, and you should never listen to liars. But…

…what am I supposed to do when I’m lying to myself, about myself?

In 2014 I ran the Portland Marathon. All of it. I trained for months and months, each weekend pushing myself further and further. 12 miles, 14 miles, 18 miles…I don’t quit. I am not a quitter. I will not quit. 20 miles…

When race day came I knew it would be a challenge and I knew I would finish. For the first 18 miles my body felt great. I ran with a smile and clear mind and nothing was going to stop me. I don’t quit. I am not a quitter. I will not quit. 20 miles…my body starts to breakdown. On this gorgeous Sunday morning people were literally dropping out and literally falling to the ground, laying face down on strangers lawns and calling for me to join them.

By mile 24 I was broken. Not just physically but mentally and emotionally. I felt as though I could not take another step forward and I also knew I could not quit. I will not quit (I can not take another step). I am not a quitter (I want to die).

Mile 25 passes so slowly…and death does not come.

For the final 1.2 miles the streets are lined with people offering encouragement and I hate every single one of them. “You’re doing great“, “You can do this“, “Awesome job, Johnpaul“, but I just want this nightmare to end and I don’t believe a word they are saying. No…worse…I refuse to believe. They don’t know how I feel. They don’t know what I’m thinking. Great job? Not to me. I can do this? Not to the standards I have set. Awesome? Fuck off.

I realize that I’m nearing the 5 hour mark and I tell myself to keep moving. Make it under 5 hours and you won’t be embarrassed, I tell myself.

Downtown Portland.
The streets are packed.
1,000 of people cheering.
Yet I am alone.

I have one corner left to turn and I see my children standing there. I’m too broken to move any faster and still they bring me love…for one brief moment I feel a sense of pride. My children are watching me run. My children believe in me. My children will be proud…

I round the last corner  and see the race timer… 5 hours, 3 minutes…I start to cry. Head down staring straight at the street I cross the finish line. 5 hours, 3 minutes, 20 seconds…

A race volunteer tries to put a medal around my neck but I just grab it in my hands. I decide in that moment of brokenness that I failed and I will never wear this medal. I go home still holding what has instantly become a symbol of failure to me…I hang the medal with my others and fall asleep…

I have ran countless races and every other time I was given a medal I would wear it proudly and say, “They don’t give medals to losers” and then I would tell my kids that I won (for which category I’m not sure… No… probably not fastest time, son, but perhaps I was the fastest mid 30’s male wearing blue and black? The details aren’t important…I’m a winner).

And yet:

“You believe a lot of lies about yourself”.

Lunch is over so I grab my jacket and notebook, walk slowly to my car, drive home, and put my 2014 Portland Marathon Medal around my neck for the first time and I tell myself:

“Don’t believe the lies”

After all, they don’t give medals to losers…and that’s the truth!

Lies

Daydreams

I dream about you on the beach. Laying back and relaxing in the sun. Life has become life for you and I. It’s just another day at the beach. But then I glance at you (and so much time has past I’ve forgotten) but you glance back and suddenly nothing will keep me from holding you.

And I don’t care what our children will think, as I roll you into the sand. And you are so tired of this. “Every time we come to the beach you just won’t leave me alone.”
But glances are what started our love and glances on the beach are what propelled our love and I don’t care!

I’ll run my sandy fingers through your sandy hair. And I’ll tell you how I’ve loved you since the day we first met.

No one else will matter. Nothing else remains. It’s just you and it’s just me and together we are perfectly in love.

And our children love us the same.

Daydreams

Waves

i sense a distance growing between us
as the waves of childish passion recede
we are still standing on the shore
together
and healing

it feels appropriate to move to the side
giving each other space
to grow. hurt. heal.

and the great things about waves
they always return
and we will still be standing
healthier. peaceful.

alone or together. in strength

Waves