Rusted Soon
In my head.
This greatness is dead.
It’s gone from me.
How can that be?
They’re 11, 9, and 7.
But I’m in a place.
Where they’ve all gone away.
The swings sit perfectly clean.
But what I see is covered in rust.
Their joyfulness. Their neediness.
It all feels empty and not present.
I know this place will look different soon.
As the tears begin to slowly brew.
Obstructing my mind. Obstructing my view.
As the blessings and pain intertwine.
Like a braid from a vine.
I realize we’re already gone.
At least I am, without a home.
My body is trapped in this circumstance.
But my mind is stuck in a far away trance.
That cannot be described to you or to me.
I simply can’t tell you what my mind can see.
The frustration of peering in front of me.
But wanting to reach. To touch. To hold. To see.
Sigh.
Now I am forced to close my eyes.
So I can see… beyond this life.
Jungle Mouse
If I can’t attack the night.
With delightful fright.
And you in sight.
Then who am I but a mouse.
In Laos.
Running to my jungle house.
If I can’t see your light.
In all your might.
As your soul shines bright.
Then I’ll run to the sun.
Away from everyone.
As I come undone.
If I can’t be your knight.
With a kiss under moonlight.
Then I’ll suffer the plight.
And be held at bay.
As I toil away.
Through the heat of my days.
Sweet In The Morning
You’re sweet like honey in the morning
When the day starts with fire
Kids up early and the cell phone alarming
You’re exhausted at night
As you lie down to sleep
Just seeking rest after a long prize fight
You keep it all from breaking down
When the chaos ensues
And it’s all crashing down
He might throw dirt in your face
Or utter words of hate
But the amazing part is you still show him grace
As they constantly change
With their humorous things
You seek to please them, all the same
For this, that, and a lot of stuff
Enough thanks cannot be given
Since we cannot thank you enough
Happy Mother’s Day!
I Carried Her Pain
I carried her pain like a sack of grain.
A hand-off of sorts.
Like in a football game.
I carried her pain like my favorite meal.
Refusing to eat.
So that she could heal.
I carried her pain like a child, newly born.
And protected it.
From those who sought harm.
I carried her pain like a precious stone.
And allowed you to see it.
But it stayed here at home.
I carried her pain like the last food you’ll see.
And when she’s ready to dine.
She’ll take it from me.
I carried her pain till I could walk no more.
To the edge of the ocean.
Where I collapsed on the shore.
I carried her pain.
I carried her pain.
I carried her pain!
And when she’s better.
It will float away… as gently as a feather.
Queen
She stalked me telepathically.
Over bedded tracks of leaves.
She clutched my every being.
As she reached out from a tree.
Her stiff-arm paralyzed me.
Like a barrier made of stone.
Her seclusion was her weapon.
As she stood hidden in the mist.
I never saw it coming.
As petals dripped like blood.
This was her playground.
Her corridor.
Her scene.
And she ruled it… like a queen!
Cargo Train
In every ounce of pain.
There’s an opportunity.
To throw aboard the train.
That which needs to leave you.
Call it a cleansing.
Call it release.
But when that something leaves you.
Something else will takes its place.
That train slowly pulls away.
And you have to watch it leave.
As the thing that didn’t belong.
Is carried far far away.
As the tears begin to pool.
And you feel as empty as a ghost.
You start to learn again.
That which you love the most.
Broken
Broken, I see you
Hurting, I feel you
Always wanted to be you
You are alive
Broken
Broken Down
Never understood it
But now I get it
So often you see it
You are alive
Broken
Broken Down
You left me, you had to
Hurting, I missed you
I saw the real you
You are alive
Broken
Broken Down
Broken Down
Broken Down
Wet Dog
You’re not allowed to speak.
Go on about your day.
You sick freak!
I’m gonna make you pay.
Your forgiveness I seek.
What did I say?
As I let out a muffled shriek.
I just want to stay.
They’re my pictures! How could you peek?
Now I have to hold you at bay.
Take this! And another one across your cheek!
It’ll be a cold day in hell, when rainbows are grey!
Perhaps my approach needs a tweak.
Every attempt turns into a fray.
Is the perception “danger” because I’m so unique?
Does she think I would ever stray?
Seriously man, why you gotta sneak?
Spreading yourself like a vile spray.
Like a wet dog, you totally reek!
I’m not a book for your public display.
The future I see is dark and bleak.
Must I really ask them to pray?
I feel fragile, broken, and weak.
Beaten down, will I find my way?
Murderous Mirage
Caught in this snare of irritation and anguish.
Mirages of freedom close in on me.
Thirsty, I reach out to the catalyst of my every breathe.
I crash back down to Earth.
A cold, gritty, moist ground, but an adamantine surface.
Each breathe heavier, more expensive.
For a moment, silence reigns.
Then the ringing sets in. Piercing. Breaching. Bleeding.
The vice of death squeezes my gut.
I start to believe I have a chance.
But my fate has already been decided.
It’s too late. I am already dead.
As the crashing of each hammer strike crushes my head.
The weight of this agony is too much to carry.
The end is near and that’s OK.
If planned this was, then a murderer she’ll be.
But absolute denial is the most likely plea.
Such a crime.
The sun bakes me slowly. Dreadfully. Fatally.
Everything has a beginning and an end and everything in between is a big mess.
Black Desert
I’m stranded.
In this desert of black.
Where I can usually see, now I see nothing.
All the emotions are dried up and cracked.
A life full of pain shoots straight up my back.
Every action seems to lack purpose.
Hints of voices plead for me to be brave.
But in here a plan is as good as a grave.
I’ve walked North, South, East, and West.
But yielded nothing in this utter mess.
Helpless I feel as I ride this wave.
Of sand and darkness, everyday.
Glass fully empty, as I die of thirst.
Forcing it only to make it worse.
Her sun beats down in a pounding rage.
My sanity I pay as an emotional wage.
My days are numbered in this wretched place.
Visions of pain, mirages of grace.
I can’t solve this riddle in my finite head.
Too much data, the puzzle is dead.
A much bigger deal to me it seems.
When will this nightmare turn back to a dream?
We Don’t Let Go
I’m looking ahead
I see so much
I’m drowning in data
I’m out of touch
I’m floating above
I’m watching myself
You see my pain
You’re quite confused
You’re reaction speaks
You don’t wanna lose
You shed a tear
Your embrace yields fear
We connect
We don’t let go
We Finally Meet
My mind is the battleground. War wages on between my imagination and reality. Strike, counter strike. We never rest. I’m awaken to images in my mind, being flipped through like a magazine, a thousand miles per hour. Back and forth. It’s overwhelming. It hurts.
Helpless, I’m stranded in the seam, the void, with nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. The dust never settles. The “what-ifs” of my imagination are bombarded by the “too-bads” of reality. This bloody war wages on. My end is near.
I’m neither here nor there. I’m nowhere, but I’m somewhere. Everyone is somewhere. Assaulted by time, it seems my only option is defeat. Yet, I carry on. I stand. I paint the happy face of a clown, but upside down. The tugging of a future’s past, on me, with every breathe.
I know reality wins. I’ve always known. I’m already standing at the finish line, watching it, watching my imagination fall. Misunderstood, I lie motionless, down in a hole. Reality has finally caught up to me. I’ve waited for what seemed like ages, but we finally meet.
We Meet
It’s nice to meet you. I’ve watched you battle fiercely from a distance. You were relentless. It was an amazing spectacle. I didn’t join you because I found a place I liked better, a place where rules had no meaning, a place where the impossible became my true reality. I didn’t join you because I fell in love with the idea that I could do amazing things, and I did amazing things, in spite of you. So, as much as I’d love to stay and chat with you, I’m going back there and this is the last time you’ll see me. Good luck.
Illusion of Freedom
My heart felt relief
But it was only a coup
Many months ago
What could I do?
She sent me away to never return
But made no sense as I listened to her
To her my words were not enough
Did her past appear with a striking blow?
Giving her discomfort and pain?
How could I know?
I felt her conflict as she fought it off
But for whatever reason I’m still in my cave
Though it feels much more like a grave
A real conversation is what I desire
Not contention or accusations!
Not throwing explosives into a fire!
I’d just love to say
That she doesn’t have to hate me
She doesn’t have to hide away
Time is all I have right now
But even that is dying somehow
No one cares to help me out
So I’ll remain in this prison with questions and doubt
Trapped! With not so much as bail.
Cold! I lie face down on the ground
Her illusion of freedom is the ultimate jail
The Prison She Chose
As I inquired about the emotional state of his wife, I was taken aback by his response. “She gets upset, making comparisons to what others have. Don’t let it bother you.”, he said, insinuating that she was somehow at fault. It was raw pithiness. He gave absolutely no concern to the fact that his wife might be very upset. His immediate goals were to dismiss her emotional state and tell me how busy having a child had made his life. Unfortunately, he was far too immersed in his own being that he failed to recognize our family dynamic, which consisted of three children, one of which has special needs. I’d seen this look before though, this attitude, this dismissal of emotional needs of a spouse. It sickened me.
Many years earlier it was in fact my own father who had exuded such passive-aggressive arrogance toward a woman facing similar anxieties. I had grown to despise this self-righteous, male-dominant, bread-winner attitude. And now, this time it was effecting me in a completely different way. That’s right, this time I was the one in crisis who desperately needed this type of man to actually be a man for once.
Sadly, some men think being nice and cool and chasing boyhood fun is more important than looking their wife in the eye and putting her first in his life. Even sadder is when said wife claims to stand-up for human rights, or more notably women’s rights, yet this control continues to shackle her without her even realizing that she is in fact shackled. Still, I don’t place all the blame on her. To the contrary, his arrogance carries this and owns it!
Such arrogance is destined for demise. I can clearly and openly say this because I’ve seen it with my own eyes and I’ve experienced it, as a son, with my own heart. Reality, however is that she broke free from one prison only to arrive in a timely manner at this new, more decorated version.
I sent so many prayers up for so long that I literally heard God say, “Your prayers have been received. Now I want you to pray for something else.” I did everything I could. I offered all the care I had. I gave all the empathy possible. Still, I was helpless. I was so helpless that it hurt. This was new hurt layered on top of hurt that already existed.
The truth is there are boundaries and when they are expressed and established I try not to cross them. Some boundaries aren’t clear, but they are loud, and those are the ones which are most easily heard.
Anyway, this post isn’t about me. It’s about what my intuition has shown me and how terribly tragic it is. I really can’t think of a more dreadful experience I could have had at a time when I really just needed an explanation and a little bit of peace. Eventually though I got an explanation, but it didn’t come from a person, it came from my subconscious.
I can’t free her from this prison she chose. Only she can do that. My deep hope is that she finds a way to freedom, but my heart tells me what reality already knows. She won’t.
Monkey Business
My mind is not here.
Monkey business all the time.
My emotions turn sad.
I’m trapped in my mind.
Is the pressure barometric?
The shock feels electric.
Or is it MSG?
Food goes in. It’s a killing spree.
Or perhaps I’m unstable.
In need of medication.
Or maybe I’m just fine.
On an exotic vacation.
My purpose I seek.
Without it I’m weak.
So set this monkey free.
And watch me climb to the top.
You’ll see.
I Know Her
When I saw her I paused
Because I knew her
I didn’t know her from the past
The future is where we crossed paths
The way the light attached to the girl
Gave it away
I looked at her in disbelief
She, oblivious to it all, just smiled
With my mind in the future where she lies in pain
Nothing I could say would change the game
First the guy
Then the pain
Next the drugs
Finally the shame
We once were close, a friendship that flowed
But she chose a path where I could not go
As she breathes her last breathe
In a future scorned
I’m brought to the past
To watch her and mourn
A Dark Intuition
Intuition has been defined as a thing that one knows or considers likely from instinctive feeling rather than conscious reasoning. As an INFJ, my dominant introverted intuition (Ni) often gives me information subconsciously, which feels like it comes from nowhere. The reason it feels that way is that it is perceived subconsciously, which while it may be strange and confusing to others, makes perfect sense to me.
I’ve had a many moments in my life where I’ve gotten a feeling (sort of a spidey sense) about something, then that something happens. It has happened plenty of times and as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to trust it. I’m sure you’re thinking along the lines of “seeing the future”, but it’s not like that at all. In fact, rarely is it a clear picture. I’m not given “what”. I’m given “something”. In other words, it’s very abstract and it’s based on patterns, but it’s still a bit inexplicable. It’s usually future oriented too, unlike hindsight which is past oriented.
A few times though, my intuition has gotten real, if not dark. One occurrence was right before my friend was diagnosed with cancer, then again right before my son was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and once again when I envisioned a friend couple divorcing with no conscious knowledge of any problems in their relationship. I just knew.
For the sake of a lengthy post and a lot of repetitive information, I’ll just talk about the time leading up to my son’s diagnosis of a malignant brain tumor.
I Just Knew
It was early February 2009. I knew something was coming. I didn’t know what, but I just knew and I knew it had something to do with my second son. It hit me as I stood in the “hallway” of our small apartment. I got a sickening feeling in my stomach from it. It was with me for a moment. It was as real as anything, but it wasn’t clear. It was real though. Then, it was gone. The information I was given was still with me, but the feeling was gone. See, this is the thing that people don’t understand about this type of intuition. You usually don’t understand it, but it’s always real. In many cases, there’s not even an action that needs to be taken, as was the case on that day.
I remember reading about a friend’s diagnosis with cancer the following day. It saddened me deeply. I don’t know if this news provided more pieces to the pattern, but thoughts of my son having cancer were there, faintly if not sub consciously. They were there though. I felt them. Then it happened. A few days later I got the call to come home immediately, that something wasn’t right with our son. It had started and I knew. I just knew. The impact of the news was still emotionally unbearable though.
To make a long story short, our second son was diagnosed with a life threatening malignant brain tumor. Honestly, it was all so much heavier than the intuition set it up to be that I didn’t think too much about the sickening feeling I’d had less than a week before. We were just focused on the battle at that point. And now, years later, as I continue to learn more about myself, after the bloodiest part of the battle, after possible PTSD, I can revisit it and remember it better.
So, I don’t take my intuition lightly. Whenever I get these overpowering feelings that something is going to happen or someone is going to do something, I make the appropriate preparations for what I perceive, at least abstractly, is going to happen.
For more information on introverted intuition, checkout this article at Megan Malone’s INFJ Blog.
Hurt Track
The agony returned.
Face down in the dirt.
Someone hit repeat.
On my track of hurt.
Nowhere to be.
No one cared.
Nothing is left.
Just memories and despair.
I hit rewind.
But that didn’t matter.
Will my breathing cease?
Will my heart shatter?
Perpetually, I cope.
I feel like a dope.
I’m struggling with hope.
Not doing this, nope.
…
So, I survive for one more day.
But the Hurt Track is waiting, ready to play.
Tempest
It hit you like a sudden breeze. A tempest.
Your heart was out there. Open. Exposed.
You looked away but for a moment.
Then realized it had wandered away.
Your panic, like a thousand voices, cried out. Shrieking.
You scurried to safety. Hiding. Hidden. Peeking.
You underestimated the power of your actions.
You were oh so powerful yet beyond scared. Fearful.
You chose not to face it, but it found you.
It faced you. You faced back.
Heart rate up. Blood pressure erratic. Sweating increased. Breathing pronounced.
You weren’t prepared for it and you didn’t care about it.
You owed it nothing and you believed it to be true.
It was insignificant in your world so bold.
Your expression. Strong. Your defense. Debilitating. Your idealism. Piercing.
The “it”, well, that was me.
Worth
You question your worth.
But it cannot be measured.
Not by a king, a queen, or even a jester.
I don’t understand why you feel this pain.
Comparing yourself to lowly things.
Diamonds and rubies don’t compare to you.
Lamborghinis can’t even run with you.
I’ve heard talk of a priceless stone.
But you are beyond priceless, you alone.
Your every being is majestic.
Your inexplicable soul is mysterious.
Your life is undeniable.
Your smile is brilliant.
You were made to soar.
Higher than jets.
So I leave you with this.
Go. Walk. Glide. Stride. Conquer. Love.
Embrace your brilliance, your beauty, your radiance.
Let nothing stop you.
Soar high above!
Your worth cannot be questioned.
Mutual Affection
Amid my struggles with sadness earlier this year, I’ve thought a lot about friends. I’ve pondered, “What is a friend to me?” and “What defines a friend?”. Is a friend someone who helps you? Is a friend and an acquaintance the same thing? I feel like everyone has different opinions or definitions of what a friend is. Does the frequency or means through which you interact with someone determine whether or not you are friends with them?
Friendships can be quite volatile. So, what do we do when something doesn’t go as planned in our friendships? Do we withdraw silently? Do we confront that friend? What happens to the relationship? Who is owed what? That last question may be the most important. It involves expectations, which are often at the core of disruption in relationships.
With so many different personality types, people deal with conflict in so many different ways. It is complicated! It’s layered, like an onion! The thing we absolutely cannot do is expect others to react the way we would. In most cases, the other person involved is simply not going to react as we would have. We must try our best to see things from the perspective of others. This doesn’t mean, we accept toxic or abusive behavior, but as a first step, we should try to understand how they see the situation. Then we can make a call on whether or not it’s healthy. Often times it is not healthy, but that can’t be determined from across the river. Assuming you agree with me on that point, my next question would be, “How do we hold others accountable in friendships when things do go bad?”
Alas, we arrive at this mysterious, transparent thing in relationships commonly referred to as “boundaries”. Boundaries are important for many reasons. One reason is that not only should we handle our relationships with care, but we have to take care of ourselves. In this breathe, we set boundaries so that we can accomplish this. Boundaries go hand in hand with friendship. What you deem acceptable may not be acceptable to a friend and it’s not your job to determine whether their boundaries are appropriate. If you feel like the boundaries that are set by a friend are inappropriate, then as friends you’re certainly within your right to discuss it, but to carry an expectation that a friend should adjust their boundaries to suit your feelings is irrational at best.
A Google search for the definition of a friend yields the following result.
A friend is a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.
This makes sense to me as a simple definition, but in reality a friend through and through can be summarized with a bit more explanation. There’s also the the age old debate on whether someone is a friend or an acquaintance and perhaps this is something that an individual defines for themselves. Of course, a friendship involves more than one person, so we absolutely have to consider that each person in the friendship may have varying definitions of friendship. Take for instance a relationship where one person’s definition of acquaintance is actually in the range of the other person’s definition of friendship. Expectations could vary greatly in such a situation, thus allowing conflict to more easily enter.
Ultimately it’s not my place to define what friendship means to another person. I can however, define what friendship means to me. In other words, I can tell you the expectations I’ve placed upon myself as to how I treat my friends, so that’s what I’ll do.
As a friend, I expect myself to comfort you, show you respect, help you with self-improvement, have a good attitude toward you, and build you up. I’m to make you feel wanted. I’m not to create conflict with you or give your misery or heartache. In no way should I create toxicity in your life. I’m to honor you and show as much courage as I can with regard to the relationship. I’m to be brave, honest, and transparent, ensuring that you are taken care of. Christ said to love our neighbors as our self. This seems to be the basic foundation of a friendship. As with strangers, I’m to show my friends empathy, sympathy, compassion, humility, and forgiveness. Above all else, I’m to put my friends and their well being ahead of my own. Selflessness is the cornerstone of any good friendship.
Release
I met her at a crash.
And something struck me.
It was more of a whisk than a bash.
A connection was made.
But sometimes the demons we cannot escape.
She had to go away.
Off she went.
And put up a wall.
I needed to know, but she wasn’t ready.
I had to wait.
Off I went. I held the pain.
Didn’t think I’d see her again.
But I did.
I asked her for forgiveness.
And she graciously obliged. What a relief.
But the line was drawn.
She had learned from her past.
That precious things need special care.
I respected that more than she knew.
Again, I felt like a friend.
But outside looking in.
The pain was here to stay.
But Released! I had been.
I Walk Along
I walk along.
Unsure of myself.
Confident in the least.
But look at her.
She’s just like me.
Yet she appears so powerful and complete.
I could never be that.
How does she do that?
She inspires me! But she has no clue.
But I have to be me, otherwise I lose.
So, confidence in me you might not see.
Too in touch with the external.
Out of touch with my internal.
I’m not afraid to shed a tear.
Wrong decision! Awkward again. Doubt rushes in. I’m just too weak.
What is this pain?
I don’t understand.
So I beat my own drum.
And I walk along.
Death Drove By
Death drove by me on the road today.
As she passed me by, she looked my way.
The paint on the road all faded to grey.
She looked back at me as if to say:
Keep on going, but you won’t get away.
The trees all shook, as the wind blew through.
The chill on your face is so cold you’re blue.
From the time you are born, from the time you are new.
Count your blessings. I’m coming for you.
Death will follow. And death… will… catch… you.