I broke my heart
by falling in love
with a promise
that never was real
And she left me standing
alone with my kids
drenched in pain
so much pain
“So you can just fuck yourself
right after you fuck me”
and over again
Words I should have said
from the moment she said
she was done
I’d be further along
or at least have a memory to smile about
And our children will suffer this pain.
and I’ll turn the corner as
you turn the page and
we keep on walking
our separate ways
each wondering this:
should I have stayed?
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
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.
do you ever get the feeling
that this feeling’s
just a feeling
that eventually will go away?
cause it stays and it stays and it stays and
they tell me
but I lived
Yesterday. And today.
…more the same.
get up off the floor
leave that pathetic soul behind
look back, if you must,
it really doesn’t matter
she never worried much about the rain when she was young. she was much more interested in the adventure that followed
and time will tell that story
i sense a distance growing between us
as the waves of childish passion recede
we are still standing on the shore
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
alone or together. in strength
Short, to the point. Perhaps poetic…perhaps…
Mostly for the Jesus part and less about the weeping.
See…not that interesting. Here the tears overshadow the man.
And no one is turning the page.
Jesus probably did a lot of things (assuming he did any at all)
But, “Jesus threw a blanket on the back of a donkey, got a boost from Thomas, hopped up, and rode off into the sunset” is far to mouthy. Even if he was weeping the entire time.
That’s how I would tell the story if I were a first century writer pretending to know him.
“Keep it vague”, I would say to myself, “let the reader decide why”. But I don’t know him.
And won’t pretend as such.
Just go (somewhere)
Turn left. Turn right. Doesn’t fit. But forget?????
… it isn’t a puzzle
Commitment is more than finding corners
_ and _
filling in the pieces
Forever doesn’t worry if everything is right
One day the picture will be complete
… despite it’s missing pieces
And I’ll be staring at your perfection