Saying Goodbye

There’re hundreds of ways to say it, but sometimes you just can’t. My brain did it for me last night. 
I had a dream last night so vivid, so real, that I woke up crying. There were tears of joy, tears of grief, and pure release. 

//

I had just been selected for a new space program, the Mars One. The other selectees and I trained for months getting into shape, learning ship mechanics as well as horticulture and other necessary living need-to-knows. I felt like a true Matt Damon. 

When the time came down to launch day, family came around, old friends dropped by, and just when the gates were closing, in walked Michaela Peck of all people. For a while, she just looked at me. I guess I’d changed my hair, maybe grown a little—inside and out. She just took it all in. Then she said the words I’m still waiting on from another, “I’m sorry.” 

It’s okay, I said. It is okay. I am okay. She asked why I didn’t fight for her, why I didn’t try to make her stay, and I told her that I didn’t want to be the crazy one. I’d rather wallow in my head than to send love letters and call begging you to come back. It’s not worth it. 

She said, “Okay.” 

I told her that I’d be gone for years to come, if I even come back; this was never a trip with a planned return. 
I asked for a hug. That’s all I ever need these days. And I counted every second of it, cherished it. 

And I felt great when I woke up because I left the dream in that moment. Nothing can go back to that dream and taint it. Nothing can tarnish it. And I cried because I was finally walking away from my side of things, finally letting go, finally saying goodbye. 

And now I can start my next journey. 

Rose Petals

He brushes that little hair back
Behind her ear again,
The one that always falls 
Over her left cheek.

He whispers in her ear,
“Say my name
So I can know how it sounds.”

She looks into his eyes with such longing.
She goes to speak,
But the words fall unheard.

“How can I love you,”
She beckons,
“If you’re locked inside your head?”

“Write your name in my heart.”

She wants to understand;
She wants to see his face,
Feel the stark roughness of his hands.

She stares, 
Time no longer matters;
He doesn’t mind waiting.

“Okay,” she says.

self // construct

Feel my heart beating faster.
Can’t you tell that it’s after
Your own? 

I sing out the souls that I’ve captured;
Can’t you tell that I’ve altered
My tone? 

Follow me in this mental monstrosity.
What have these words that I construct
Shown? 

Walk the line between dying and poverty.
How do I muster the courage
To grow? 

—I’ll build a ship to hold all of my anchors,
A vessel to make me reborn.
You be the wind that keeps pushing me onwards,
And, darling, I’ll be the storm.

self // constrict

I have anchors in my veins
And little red balloons
Tied up in my heart strings.

I put them there myself,
Tasting something.

I keep chasing after wings,
But every feather singes
And sends me to the grave.

I sit like books upon my shelf,
Gathering dust.

What happened to the brave ones,
The prince-will-save-the-princess ones,
All the hero-gets-the-girl ones? 

I stay inside my head,
Feeding sickness.

I wear a mask to hide my face,
The bleeding circles you could trace.
I stay awake to steal the space;

I fear the night may take my place.

self // destruct

My shirts are getting loose again.

I thought of tying nooses in

The rafters of my hideaway

To maybe find a change of pace.

I haven’t kicked the habit;

I still have it

Tucked between my lips—

A cigarette, a lighter flip.

I can’t comprehend why

I force myself to write about

How I feel living in this old town,

How I have to force a smile now,

And the friends who helped me talk out. 

There’s whiskey breath

On my smoking gun;

There’s a fire escape

Through my burning lungs.

Kiss the stars one last time.

Shoot the moon when the night

Draws near.

Fight for the sun, and it’s flickering light.

Join me here.

self // reflect

I’m having second thoughts
About what I want.
See, I keep falling for the same shots, 
The same taunts.

It’s not a game anymore.

Where did I lose track of time?
I feel everything and nothing
In a single heartbeat.

Why don’t I bleed still?

Following through, wall to wall,
I walk the shortest path.
I cut my hair, I change my name,
But somehow you keep finding me.

I need to dig deeper than I ever have
To find what’s left and see if I can
Laugh it back to life.

Where am I?

This place is unlike any that I’ve seen.
It’s seems, though, that I’ve been

Here

Before.

Dust floats along the streams of light
Through the cracks in the boarded windows.

I peak outside.

I see myself.

the rain

I miss the sound of the rain on my back porch steps,

Like background noise to lighting cigarettes.

The summer sun smiles down on me now,

But I hide my face,

Waiting for winter’s cold to match my own, 

Losing sense of time in this place.

I miss the way I brushed my hair,

Parting it one way and then the other.

Now I let it be.

I miss feeling like I was on top of the world.

I miss the laughter I shared with the ones I love.

I miss going out at all hours of the night.

I miss my family.

I miss the darkness.

I miss the old me.

I miss the rain.