Ka-Boom

It's late
I was almost asleep on the couch two hours ago
not that I count things like hours of sleep
or measure time in the degree of the sun
that all passed long ago

meandering across the skin
I smell lingering fatigue

There's not too much to say. I lost whatever that something was that held me together it just poofed and now I have the strangest sense that all that's left is a shell of what once was, action set in motion carried out over routine. Less and less oh as the sun's rays wane and I know there is light gaining just beyond the edge of the horizon.

secrets, I used to tell them

I lost all sense to beauty

my integrity strapped

incumbent

don't ask me to stay

because I cannot go

don't ask me to come

I must stay

the great divide

everything that keeps me together
falls apart

countdown

10 weeks left this year

this was supposed to be a banner year
and it has been

only
rolled up and into tube
packed up and away
along side the dust bunnies
long
time ago
I believed
in dancing

turtles all the way down

I am planning on going back to school. what a dream of the quiet simple life I hold dear to my breast.

they ask complicated questions like "what is your current mailing address" as if I am just supposed to be able to rattle that off easy as pie.

anyhow.

I am not homeless just don't have an address or a car.

my heart breaks against the walls of my chest and beats with the longing of a long harbored barge. 

I use people up

wear them out
listless lack of ambition

I spent my aptitude
on youth

Burn the Holdings

My life can fit under a table
except the horse
he is too tall to settle for living under a table

I don't know how I fee;
about the not going as planned
the quick decisions
and the sudden bursts of make a choice now

but I do know
the hunger for sharp and hot
and desire for the long slow regeneration
as skin pulls back together
seams tight back to itself

not today instead more coffee

if that ain't vanilla

I just got booted out of my place

*le sigh*

suppose I ought to care more

than I do

about all sorts of things

like the shortening days

or the clockwork return of Jesus

season

I wrap into blankets

voices muffled through curtains

filter in from outside

stray distinguishable words

*my  understanding*

I can't help but think that's

exactly the problem

that and suburban sprawl

tangential memories

I've been through the battlefields

facetious inner-terrain banished

I have three jobs

looking for the forth

wielding hammer, cake, cappuccino,

smiles and grace

wind and crisp stars rivet my attention

my heart not still

I await a reckoning

there was a silence in that chaos

I'd forgotten

grateful, I returned to my senses 

boot straps

I've been told one can judge a man based on the quality and condition if his shoes. 

my boots are old. my feet have pressed miles into their soles. the scuffed toes and dusty cracks speak of labor, early mornings, manure. I oil them and pray.

I am working three jobs earning dollars and pride.

I pray for one more week-- as if that span will provide me clarity of mind.

my heart beats along as I wake in the predawn hours to pick up a hammer so that I can buy new boots that don't have miles if history cracked into the cracks. 

love, my love, lifts the edges of oblivion

scours the terrain

feasting 

love is gentle

to all of you I disregarded

took for granted and

abandoned

forgive me,

I lost more than my bearings

now that I remember

surfacing for air

the sea's dead calm surface

belayed its currents

I have less

to hold now

hold me gently

lips to my ear

as I wake