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2008 Poems And I'm standing on the quiet shore.
The last rays of sun,
Climb out over the horizon.
The last wisp of the day,
Before the sun dives away.
Looking out across the warm waters,
The cool air brushes my face,
Playfully rustling my hair.
A summer moon rises over the mountains,
But he's not looking that way.
Climbs down from his perch,
Down the rocky cliffs,
To the sandy shore.
Slowly heading back to his quiet car.
The windows are down,
As he makes his escape from the beach.
The sounds of night dance in his ear,
The wind rushing through the windows,
Driving till there are no more lights in the sky.
Thoughts race around his head,
As the tires race along the pavement.
Sorting out the past week’s events.
Unsure what to make of them,
What to think of him.
He returned before,
And all of a sudden,
It's a dream,
It can't possibly be true.
He's too perfect by every standard.
It's some sort of trick,
He's crouched down low,
Waiting for the floor to disappear,
For it all to fall apart.
Something will go wrong,
It always does.
Somehow, someway,
He'll fuck it up.
Scare him off,
The one guy he's ever truly felt a connection.
He's never even met him.
Doesn’t understand,
Why is it this way?
I don't even know the man,
Yet the pieces all fit,
Perfectly square,
Flush.
There’s something,
Something he can’t see,
He can't taste,
He can't smell,
He can't hear,
Something he can't touch.
But he knows it’s there.
Here.
But the cracks are already appearing in the foundation,
Even if he put them there.
It’s too good to be true,
He tells himself this every day.
Preparing himself for when he drives them away.
Impossible to think of something good,
Can't comprehend what would happen if it worked out.
It's never happened before,
Why should it happen now?
Emotions in over drive,
Unsure what he feels,
Doesn’t know what to think.
Confused and tired.
The blank stare upon the computer screen,
Waiting for his response,
But hoping it never comes.
Yet just when he gives up hope,
A sweet, silver reply.
Keeps his dreams alive,
For one more night.
Yet there’s darkness upon the horizon,
The sun's gone for good now,
And the demons emerge from the salty sea.
They see me,
Driving away quickly,
Yet no matter how fast I go,
They always catch me.
Grab me,
Tearing into my flesh,
Pulling,
Biting,
Killing.
Drag me back,
Mile by mile,
Into the salty grave.
Head underwater,
Gasping for the surface,
Yet I’m always pulled down deeper.
Darkness takes control,
Till I once again awake on the all familiar ledge.
The people far below,
The knife in my hand,
The gun in my pocket,
And the rope around my neck.
Scars of my past,
Scars of my un-named pain.
Still could he be that man?
The one that has always been my personal fiction,
The one who gets me more then I get myself.
The one guy who’s there to save me,
Save me from myself.
Could this be him?
There are moments when he strips me of my defenses,
Effortlessly breaks down the walls,
Ones that took years to build.
So many have tried,
And almost all have failed.
But it’s so easy for him,
Too easy perhaps.
But does he truly get me?
Is it all an act?
All a charade to get to me?
Could I be reading into it too much?
Believe he is everything,
When really he is nothing?
Am I trying too hard to find someone that doesn’t exist?
Or is he truly the one?
You'll never read this,
Because I doubt anyone I care about ever reads this shit.
Yet I’m asking you this question,
Here,
Because I can't ask it to your face.
Do you actually care about me?
Do you really like me?
Is there potential?
Is there possibility?
Or am I going to slowly fade away?
Am I trying to hard?
Or could this be something wonderful?
If you answer those questions,
And you answer them how I think you will,
Then I only have one more thing to ask of you.
Will you be that guy,
The one who;
When I say goodnight, with that tone in my voice,
Will you be the guy who cares enough to show up?
Just to make sure everything’s alright?
Will you be someone to pull me back from the ledge,
Cut the rope from my neck,
Wrestle the knife from my hand,
And just be someone,
Who can hold me in your arms?
And without saying anything at all,
Know all the answers?
Are you someone who I can look at,
Look into your blue eyes,
And in our silence,
See all the answers to the questions I’m afraid to ask.
Are you that person?
Or am I just the stupid idiot,
Who expects everything to be perfect,
And can't get a grip onto reality,
And come to face the fact,
That that person,
Doesn’t exist.
