Category: Poetry

be the rain for me.

kiss my cheeks
and bless my lips

hide my tears
with your own

wash away
all things
but
this.

(the rain)
(and you)

the unwinding of clocks
reminds me that momentum
is relentless
unless you have
teeth.

it is a mercy
and memory

a dream
sparked in the passing of hubris
and the sweetness of light.

dwell.
desire.
decide.

in the shadow of a minotaur

I came across a supposition.

    that the difference between a maze and a labyrinth

    is a matter of the heart.

you can get lost in a maze.

    but in a labyrinth

 so long as you go forward,

          you will find the center

if we agree with this supposition

then we must follow the red threaded question it holds

is your heart a maze

   holding captive 

      poor adventurers

incapable of solving it’s mystery

or

a labyrinth

  home to just

        the one

who put their hand to the wall

   closed their eyes

       and walked

you are not a rose.
not pricked
in thorns
or cannibalized
for love

you are not a summer day.
if your eyes hold
a sunset
you keep it
well hidden

you are not a gift.
promise,
secret,
or encapsulated
by any singular
intent

you
do not fit neatly
into metaphor
(or my poet’s heart)

you are simply
(perfectly)
unique.

we trade making a scene
for quiet today
is the cessation of dreams
the price we must pay?

hold onto these words, less we forget
that a lifetime of almosts
is one of regret

the longer I live
the more that I find
the things I miss most
are the dreams left behind

not callous, not simple, not shallow or clothed
but bared and complex, deep and exposed

not careful, not silent, not restrained or delayed
but reckless and furied, freed and remade

not counting the rings in the circles I’ve walked
but remembering the falls and the chances I’ve stalked

you can promise the peace of a path well traveled and tested
and I’ll show you my scars where the best have been bested

now tell me you’re listening
and I’ll tell you this:
a life that’s worth living
is too easily missed