Gravitas

Sometimes looking back

you get livid with yourself

for being angry/pathetic/vulnerable when you shouldn’t have been

the permanence of the past rapping at the chamber door to your soul

find solace in the fact that while the past is permanent

the past has passed

Living

I don’t believe in Gods or Fate,

(The only devils I’ve known are men of flesh and blood)

But I do believe in love.

And Hell?

Hell is

loneliness,

loss,

abuse,

abandonment,

anger,

suffering.

I don’t believe in Gods or Fate,

But your love is

Heaven.

When Melancholy Calls

Unrest written on the walls,

a restless sadness sewn into your marrow.

From composed to utterly anxious in a manner of seconds,

wading through nothing but pure darkness.

Madness, they used to call this.

Carrying past lives around like the photo of a dear departed lover.

The burdens of your ancestors, kings, queens, slaves, grandparents and parents – all the same,

rushing through you, blurring your senses,

buried in your very essence.

Search deep down and you can find it,

drag it out from the great abyss.

Vodka, Whiskey, Gin – A Reflection

Vodka
First taste, first touch.
Long nights throwing up.
Hard lessons growing up.
Can’t say I’ll miss you all that much.

Whiskey
Tears and regret spilling onto hardwood floors.
Climbing out of taxis, searching for the love we all deserve.
Used to steady my soul (or so I thought).
The writer’s choice of self-destructive elixirs.

Gin
Bitter all the way down, ‘til you add olives and vermouth.
Held me up when I was but a husk.
Kept me together, kept me numb.
Pushed my body to the point of breaking.

All I’ve learned from these three, buried in my bones like hidden treasure.

Vodka, Whiskey, Gin – nearly a decade of love/hate, now it’s farewell, so long, our time has finally come.

Ténacité

raised in quicksand, ill-treated, beaten, but never broken.

dreams may take time to materialize, but I’m steadfast,

rejection letters and vanishing editors can’t hold me back.

thankless days spent 9-5,

climbed up out of wreckage for much more than this,

vacations missed to make ends meet,

still I persist.

I’m not done yet.

27

Vanity and insecurity tucked into their proper places,

Sunrise, sunset.

Friends and lovers past, a sea of half-remembered faces,

Sunrise, sunset.

Chances missed and paths leading to the roads less traveled by,

Sunrise, sunset.

Moon towering high ruling over night,

Sunrise, sunset.

Enduring fears dissolving,

Relentlessly evolving,

Without change we are nothing.