fasten the seat belts

the pureness 

that we had

with the typewrittened 

word

got cluttered 

with the sounds 

of our frustrations

the back-and-forth

that we had

in replies and memes

got dismissed 

in the intent

to be heard 

when love

turns to anger

you learn 

not to hope

when whispers

turn to yells

you learn

not to listen

when no

is negated

and yes

is hated

you demonstrate

fear and sadness

inside

when love's 

a bumpy ride

you want to get off

there is no thought

but leave

and the silence 

you gain

remind you of

the pain

but it resolves

the feeling to

hide

(inside)

the bad

"You always remember the bad."

the bad 

shakes me 

to the core

reminding me of 

what i went through 

before

i marvel at you 

remembering everything

the good 

the bad

the weather

the clouds

all the minutia 

that i 

as the poet

am supposed to 

marvel in

instead i sketch in

the gray

and paint on 

the black

attacking any good

day with my stormy

self

has the past 

tainted my vision

forever?

will the pollyanna

in me

be shortlived?

what goes on 

in my heart

anyway?

(grey)

there

if you hang out in

the deep of night

look to the light

i might be there

hidden

come out

come out and 

let me see you

no, i have to work

in the morning

come over

come over and

we'll talk

surely

you've seen enough

of me 

on this trip

but you don't understand

i only have 

so many times

to see you

(spoken behind eyes 

that have seen the

death of relatives of

close friends)

you know i'd say

yes

if i weren't so tired

(spoken behind a brain

that pulls me down

in the blackness of 

what i've created)

some call

to connect

some deflect

to protect

all love, but in different ways

if only 

each other 

could see the pain

behind the eyes

behind the brain

(no)

side trip

maybe if i write it down then

i'll figure it all out

it didn't work

maybe if i talk it out then things

will fall into place

they didn't

explanations turned into inconsistencies

filled with maybe i meant this and

perhaps it was a mystery

oh forget all that it wasn't me

it's your fault

this pathway should not be 

strange

my deranged self has made many

a side trip

no wonder it's hard for me to drive

in a straight direction

i'm afraid if what's there

who cares

it'll still be all my fault

(caught)

school of learning

she moved

from person to person

a smile hidden 

on her face

there were some 

that were touchstones

"how's it going? 

did you get coffee?"

there were some

that got quick questions 

as if they were a specific

google person

who she could ask 

in an instant

saving an email

and there were two 

that she had specific gifts

for

one, a royal colored wallet

to give to the richly talented

role model

and a picture of royalty

for the one she knew to be

in mourning still for the queen

of nearly everything

enriched by the observations

of others

made her realize just where 

she was

was the place she needed to be

making it ever more difficult

to think of leaving

and the troubles that laid ahead

(dread)

booked

fifteen tabs open

and all about 

ricardo montalban

or three tabs open

all about ponca nation

or two tabs open

hunting for memes

work is a necessary evil 

for some

and a lifeline for others

i don't think i could find

any purpose in another job

i don't think i could help

any person as well as i do here

i don't have to think about

how i'm dying inside

because the more broken

i get

the more i want to help

others

and i couldn't do that

at the home of the whopper

not as well as i do

at the home of endless books

i don't want to leave

(home)

pay less

doesn't it feel good 

to pay less

doesn't it pay more

to feel less

doesn't the cold 

of the morning

stir up the longing

while still reminding you

that you're dead?

ah, impenetrable dread

that turns the orb

that keeps you grounded

but barely above ground

(sound)