RJB & BJB

The older you get

The faster time marches on

While I’m hunkered down

Working paycheck to paycheck

Friends get married then divorced

Nieces and nephews grow up

Life moves on for everybody

I’ve grown up too

30 years and still no clue

Of what I want to be

I know what I like

I now know how to turn

a passion into a career

I have a poet's heart

So open up my veins

And let the ink pour out

The blotches,

Golden light through branches

That gives leaves their

pop of color

Which illuminates their greenery

And highlights their shade

On the backdrop

Of the light blue sky

I hear birds chirping

I feel the wind gusting

making leaves shake

Producing a calming sound

Its odd

Missing a mirage

An image of a person

Instead of the person themselves

This perfect person,

Built up in your head

Vs the person

Who breaks your heart

Upon brushing it

The reality of a wake of pain

Vs the hopeful future

Held in an old Masonic Lodge

It attracts eccentric characters

From all over the Midwest

People who like me

Are looking for a good deal

On a quality pipe

A tumble,

A fumble,

A stagger,

A st-

St-

Stutt-ter

A stutter

My mouth,

My words

Betray me

Fingers fly,

Across a key board,

Scrawling across the paper

But a stutter,

An inability to enunciate,

To communicate

Words locked away

By uncertainty,

Fear,

Frustration

A jumble in the head

On the tongue

Words almost meaningless

Each syllable a fight

A war to talk

A fumble

In my carreer

A tumble in my pride

My fluency

A stagger

In my love for words

The first coffee of the day

Has 3 to 4 spoonfuls of sugar

It has store-bought, vanilla-flavored, creamer

It is only meant to be sweet and good for the soul

The second cup of the day

Has no more expensive creamer

Whole milk this time

With only 1 or 2 sugars

This time I want to taste the coffee

Nutty, malty, and not too bitter

This is the cup I drink with breakfast

By my third cup I only need caffeine

I am ready for the bitter reality

No more cream, and only 1 sugar

Just to take the edge off

Give me the darkest, strongest brew

Now I am ready to take on the day

My fourth cup is a glass of ice water

Just let me cry

Stop

Looking at me,

There is worry in the air

That spreads like a plague

From every news source in the USA

Every mind is stressed

Human interaction is feared

No one is sure of what to do

But they all seem to have an answer

Shut everything down

Stop the plague

Quick! Open it all back up

The economy

Doom

Desperation

Sisters,

Whats that even supposed to mean?

Siblinghood I get,

I have a brother

Used to be thick as theives

Now its an awkward dance

Of "how are you"'s

"What are you doing",

"Nothing remarkable

But still wanna talk"

But sisters,

10 and 9 years apart,

I was 7,

We moved,

My sisters didn't

Sisters,

She's family,

I love her,

Of course I do,

We're sisters

But Damn,

I don't know a single thing about her

Her favorite animal,

A white tiger

Favorite color,

Green

Favorite place,

Paris

Things a 7 year old remembers

Shes a mother now

So consumed

She's only a person when alone

Which is damnably hard to do

I don't know her,

I've tried to reconnect

Theres an ocean between us now

Sisters,

More like strangers,

She doesn't need a second sister

Somehow, someday

I’ll figure out how to live my own life

Not Dali’s, or Hemingway’s

I’ll find my own voice

Not Tolkien’s, or Sanderson’s

I’ll be at peace with my awkardness

And find expression of creativity

Without being a copycat of

HR Giger, Junji Ito, Joseph Fink

Because in the modern world

The future has already been imagined

Every great music, literature, and art movement

Has already come and past

I’m sitting here trying to decipher my ideas

From greats who probably already thought of them

In this society, what is the difference

Between original thought, and plagiarism

Was I ever even inspired?

Have I ever been creative?

Body, 

Racked with grief 

Jerking underneath the weight of it

All consuming Anger, 

Intermitted crying 

Laughter,

Loud, 

Angry,

Sobs,

So deep

my breathing

is through gasps

when the body demands air

the heart wont give

For a moment there,

I felt possessed,

Surely this cant be me 

Jarring laughter rang in my ears,

Another wave of terror started,

No control over my very body

It is me,

My Anger,

That you left me,

I was 14,

How could you leave me?

Grief filling the spaces,

I still remember

I remember cradling my viscera,

Afraid that my organs will slip out

At the gash I could feel so strongly

I could trace the non physical scar

That I’ve never been colorblind

But that summer I was,

Physically I could see,

But to me,

The whole world was gray

I felt like I couldn't hear,

I was 6ft deep under snow,

Always cold,

Numb,

Feeling beneath the surface,

Trapped in the frozen lake

My heart became

You left.

6 months, roughly

To prepare,

Accept

But I was 14,

You were still my Superhero,

And Superheroes don't die

Dads don't die

Not till they're old and gray

But Die you did.

You were not very old.

You were not very gray.

Time passed.

Angry at it though I was

(Didn’t the world know it already ended,

That the world died when my mom walked down the stairs,

No words required,

That look was unmistakable)

I thawed,

My numbness became less numb,

My feelings still  buried, 

I could now ice skate

Upon my frozen lake

I built a cabin,

Made some campfires,

I could breath again

Without it catching in my throat

I cradled my stomach less and less

My  organs no longer pressed at the seams

I woke up,

Like the spring after winter,

From a long nap

I kept my lake,

But life happened around it

Till today.

7 years later

My lake melted

Evaporated all at once

I tried to unpack it long before,

Process it,

I stared at the shovel

But I shoved it down so long,

The shovel was as foreign,

As an alien language,

Not only would I not know where to start,

It felt like everyone in the world

Would be lost

I’ve cried,

But I always stopped 

Right before the cliff

Today I was pushed

Off the cliff,

No parachute

7 years of sorrow,

In an hour,

SER’s are no joke.

I can breath,

The seam isn't lost,

Its still there,

I can bear the weight of it now,

In a way I never could

Before

I’m not stuck,

Between HEAL!!!! Dammit!

And I can’t heal

I’ve accepted,

Searching,

Coming short, finding only vices

I find peace in tobacco smoke

So I can slow the day down and think

I used to pray

Now I meditate

I find the will to keep going

In the coffee I drink in the morning

I’m on my feet for 12 hours

Faking a smile and telling everyone

I’m fine

Telling the truth isn’t good customer service

I am fine, it’s a type of truth

I’m fine with the fact that

My life doesn’t mean anything

I’m fine in the way that dad used to say it

Fucked up

Insecure

Neurotic

 Understatement

People change for the best or worst

Don’t know

I was a teenager when I fell in love with my best friend

I was not the best version of myself

but she saw potential in me

now it’s my turn to keep an open mind

while my best friend changes

for the best or worst?

I guess it’s for me to decide.