Sometimes just reading someone's story is enough to remind you of the communality we share...and in my case makes me cry.

This is one those times.

I could stand to be a bit less overemotional...

*Sigh*

It Only Comes Out At Night

My soul doesn't sleep at night.
All the darkness does is serve to remind
how alone and afraid the night can be.
A reminder of how my soul,
how it can only have this one real connection
and that anything else is just finite.

There is the absence of light
this fear of all the burning it brings
and the pain it reveals.
All of the ugly scars and the truth
that can no longer hide from me.
All reveled in an instant to the world
all the secrets worked so hard to conceal.

The night hides everything I never wanted
and is given to me in dreams.
Dreams of Hell fire and
of deepest wasters of darkness.
Reminders of the finite little boy here,
that he cannot survive nature
much less his own fears.

It's this night that acts as a cancer
eating at my soul.
Showing every little fault line
and every moment that has cut my heart,
pressing deep on the wounds
making me unable to breath.

It is this night that dares to taunt me
and dares to remind me of my loss.
How this chasm has grown deeper by day
and wider by night.

To live is to hurt.
Memories are bitter sweet
but sometimes so bitter
that I do not know if I was better with them
or without them at the time,
much less now
when all the final nail needs
is just a simple breeze.

Love is not finite.
It has no compromises.
Just that which is imposed on it
to please those it needs.
So that it is not forever alone.
Love mends, builds and restores.
Just as easy as it kills on a whim.
Passionate insanity,
a delusion based in the soul
and carried out by a diseased mind and body.

But it is this coming night I fear.
The night when I awake to find the day has fled
and all is now hidden by night eternal.
That you are nowhere to be found
and I weep alone,
held in place by the nights cover.
Keeping me sanitized
from the offensive perturbation
and protrusion
of love into this night
hiding my soul so sweetly
and with the utmost kindness
found only in the night's dark charity.

Lovely Talk Tonight

I'm sitting here wishing
I had some good news to give.
I'm sitting here and hearing
just every word in every phrase
of everything I never wanted you to say,
to feel the quiver of your lips
moving in slow ways
with resounding doubt.
But better this time than last.

I wanted to say it's alright
or that I'm sorry.
Sorry for crimes I haven't committed yet,
just some words to get your mind
moving elsewhere,
to give them form here.
On an adventure to see,
just so you see how beautiful you are.

It feels too trite to say,
too disarrayed to know
too broken to feel
too many ways
to not know how to say
just how little love
just how much pain
just how insufficient
I am,
and how the future should be more.
So much brighter than what I can offer to say,
offer to do for it.

Out of sync rhymes hoping to make sense
over the snaps and cracks
of a world falling out of place
and it landing in your backyard.
Given the choice none of us would have asked for it
but we get the gifts
of universal fear, doubt and understanding
and grace just
and only just as we need it.

I want to be the one who doesn't care
about the thoughts of others
but it means neglecting
even betraying a part of me
that I just cannot let go of.

It's like I cannot help but look at this mirror
and see what is behind me.
The background is my foreground
as much as I'm your foe.
This odd and needed reversal.

I can't help but want to see some real transformation
to see this fake part of town on fire
seeing everything burned down
and made new.
Renewed with the pain of burning
and being made beautiful again.
To see the location
of your soul
be found again.
Smiles of sunlight
on these blades of grass.
They need you so they won't wither.
Without you there is no life,
no life for the place you are given.

It's not like we're living for today
anymore then it was yesterday
or the year before.
It's not like we're running out of time
just the minutes of every day.

It's not like it's new
we've been through this every day of our life,
every moment before we knew of the other
as if somehow,
we always had this intristic connection
that was made before time began.
That love which shaped creation with words
making us to be who we are before we knew.
Before we knew the potential of life
or the Hell is becomes.
Before we could scarcely hope to believe in hope
or that we can find each other.
The need to know we are both here and there
even when there is nothing in between.
That the longing felt can be made whole,
that the two halves torn apart will be restored.

That there is love to be had,
hope to be found,
love to restore
and hope to heal.

That these thoughts,
these wild whispers of untamed hope
might find life in your breath.
That they may be brought back to life
and set the fire in your heart
so you aren't afraid to ask,
ask the hard questions when all you want is
all that you are never seeing.

There are never words enough to offer,
prayers cried
or screamed into heaven.
There will never be enough verbal expression
or words being written
that can give justice to emotion
and its merest of consequences.

We can talk about sleep
but what about when it never comes?
Like the pause before dawn
except this is looking into an abyss
of self established failure.

But it is more,
more than you
and thankfully more than me.
It's behind you
and inside you.
Waiting to catch flame
and burn ever bright.
Love on its way down to the top.