Some time between you moving away,
me all over the place,
we were astronauts flying towards space.
Landing on different planets,
in the same solar system.
We changed, we adapted and we grew up;
and in many ways grew apart.
Unforseen results.
We weren’t those young dreamers of space travel anymore.
Something shifted.
What is dependent on independence,
two minds who no longer saw the difference.

And the occasional transmissions back and forth lost in translation, slipping in and out over the decades.
It’s a shame, but it is reality.
We both see, no need to agree.
Transmissions get more elusive as time goes.
Maybe we slipped into a black hole, the darkest throes?

Or maybe it’s just me.

Hardened space travelers know they can never really go “home”.

High Road

For Stacy…

Forever take the high road
I wish I had another place to go.
Forever stuck on this high road
Say it’s true, but how do I really know?
I say I want you to grow, where that leaves me,
I don’t know.
Forever travelling on this high road.

Live for the beautiful, another chance to shine
Downgrade to neutral, watching your shadow go by
I lived for this, no longer bliss, I want to make it right
Watching from afar, I can only hope this is what you want

Forever travelling on this high road.

I Get It

I get it why people get dogs, write break-up songs, I get it all.

I see why we fight, regardless of who’s right- how you feel.

Don’t we just pretend to


Why it was never that simple.

I get that now.

I see the daylight rise while breathing out those we’ve lost.

I get it all.

Where the coffee pursed my lips, the mirage of October waiting in the wings.

And I get why we play dress up, trick or treat, lie to ourselves, lie to our friends.

I mistook our lies for friendship.

How expendable we are.

The beginning never resembles the end.

I almost forget why I came. And I don’t feel the same.

It breaks my heart to know what we left on the table.

Why we gave it away.

I get it, I get it, I get it all now.


I must maintain freshness past my expiration date.
I must retaliate… when no one is looking.

There is my face, and protective gear to keep me safe.
Safe from myself.

I must give up the ghost.
I must walk away from shell shock and splatter.

This is but a taste, of a life, of love–of laughter.
This body, my home,
a tender heart that has not expired.

U+Me= Holding On

Everybody moves on.
I keep holding on.
Vice grip blues.
I hold onto you, but you never turned your head to see me.
We thought on the same plane, I existed once
maybe that was my defect. Seems personal now.
But it’s not your problem, you just kept walking
into the sun- or maybe an impasse and then a rest stop to thank the ground for keeping pace
I wanted you to wait for me. I could hear the shuffle of feet
You never said goodbye.
You never told me you’d miss me.
The days stretched into years.
I’m still waiting here.

Both Sides

“What can I do to save my friends from the same things that still try and destroy me?” – Tim

Seeing red, the devil in the details,
so widespread,
and I can see you bleeding from here.
You’re teetering on the fence:
the one side- a sewage drain, blackened stains, sulfuric air,
fallen in, knee deep & stuck,
corralled into the waiting cypher, where no one visits and nobody cares– no one that hasn’t already put up with enough.
On the other side, the grass looks plush,
clover underfoot, green/lush,
a spectacle; the propensity for charm,
the taller stalks of mint, backwashed into the soil.
Fresh scents, crushing the memory of pungent elixir,
weeping into the air,
lost it’s charm long before you ever got there.
Far too late to turn back now,
churns your heavy heart, aching limbs;
towards that insurmountable gape.

We never truly get there, we just keep… walking–
towards the sun, no longer your enemy;
towards the light, into something better than ‘right’,
that place you started and quickly devolved,
the awaiting fallout, pond scum and wet brain…
no family to absorb your sick,
your lonely– your pathetic reach for one more drink.
Knowing well, you chose the side where things don’t go to die.
The devil patiently waiting for his turn… as you turn your back.


This is gonna hurt me more that it’s gonna hurt you… but how would I know?

The place in your heart, filled with the dark,
rancid hearts, past expiration,
because I can’t make excuses for what I am.
I am sick– aren’t we both?
Here we are- like before,
don’t you need me?
I don’t need you anymore,
the listless shuffle and disputes,
fed to each other
back and forth.
Stifles to the core– self satisfaction in being right,
forget right now,
living in someone else’s fantasy
that didn’t play out anyway.
This room is dreadful, cold and lonely at night.
You & me, alive, in different homes,
One of us moving forward,
the other holding on.

…but doorstops make poor friends,
every beginning finds it end.
And we’ve reached our limit.