Day #41- Indecision(s)

July 31st

Pressed on this mattress,

Spinning and turning since 8 in the morning,

Backwards days I thought were past me.

I still think of her,

And you at the same time.

I couldn’t make it up,

Make up the time?

Or decide,

Decide if this was the right kind.

I know you thought you could stay and I wanted you to.

August was a starter,

July 31st was the day it started with you.

The day of weddings in summer times,

Yellow shades like James Bond,

The last recording of the old camcorder,

The Hi-8 Tapes of Dana Point,

The last Marriot,

The last time I saw the outside world.

I couldn’t decide.

Did I want to stay in the breeze,

And the Dana Point,

And the main point,

And the time you met me at the beach

In that pink blaze of beauty,

In that high school memory,

The first of love and burning

And late night madness,

All of it was!

All of it had to be!

When July 31st came,

It came and went,

It all was love,

It all of summer,

It all was indecision.

Day #39- Hits

July 28th

Taking hits and giving in..

Thought I needed it..

Device for the devices,

Can’t see the scar that fades away..

And your head too,

And that tea a little soft too,

Wrenches,

Bring them,

You did.

Trenches,

Lost, and you dig,

You did?

Where is often,

Is it daily?

Is it now,

Then,

Past,

Present,

Broken,

Tremble,

In.

Is it a minor concussion,

You know?

From all the hits.

Day #38 – Trenches

July 27, 2018

Sunrise,

Blood moons,

Lunar Eclipses,

Days turned to night with you,

Embarrassed a little with you,

Or maybe because of you,

Stretching Thursdays into Fridays,

Watching night fall,

Bitter ending trails to form from

This new kind of norm,

Escaping from the ache,

Moving towards the mistake,

Taking it in the gut,

Sick, in the rut,

For the secrets keep you stuck.

Passing nights with you,

Falling in circles,

Spinning a little bit too,

Asking for fixing,

Looking for wrenches,

Lost in the trenches.

 

 

Day #37 – Mission(s)

Sent on a mission,

Entering the submission,

Day’s past were wrapped in the past.

Locked in and loved it for the sake of no one,

But got you in here,

Lost and insecure,

Really, resting, unsure.

Really, had you going for a minute!

Took you down the roads, and into the

Dark!

Pathways for the past were in this heart.

It wasn’t the first time, or the last time that you

Would be udone..

But it should be the last of these last missions

You call home, and away!

And everything felt a little better hidden away..

In the dark,

In the shadows.

Am I not the kind that could love the light!

Am I not the kind that would fade with the night!

Am I on a mission,

Or is it You that I am here for?

Day #34 – Arrival

Middle man for a second,

Dropping you off and leaving it,

Summer was over,
Leaves were left for you,

Summer had a little sad,

I knew that was because of you.

Missed you now,

And a little then,

Gifted with memories

But not with forgetting.

Dropped it to,

Middle love,

For this place had a lack of

Family,

A lack of thirsty,

I knew I had a burn,

And a scar,

And a place to light it all.

I was stuck for a little,

At it for a while,

Here for the arrival.

It should be coming soon.

Day #33- 2 Days to spare

Upon returning
Fresh vision for what?
Last night in the heap of it,
Waiting for words,
And wanting to write it,
Showerless, and a little powerless too,
A full house of love,
Found out above was not the only way
If God is high,
So is Christ,
All I got now is 2 days,
And mind change,
That is what is needed.
You are the one here,
In a less specific place.
In a more broader place.
The margin is a call,
Lesser before your fall.
I am downward now,
Down to the floor,
Upon returning,
I start this again,
I finish with some breath,
And ask for more than 2 days.

Days- 25 #..Numbers

Present tense,

Grinding against the self,

Putting your old fear on the shelf.

If this is noise, what kind would it be?

Struggling to come up with the words,

Yet you form them for me?

I can sit back but not relax,

You are the One that created

The Syntax.

Can I form words,

Or numbers?

Yet counting you call

Is your plan, was, will be,

Books opened,

Open,

Will open.

Numbers and transgressions.

We are the ones you count,

And track and gather around you.