Poems of the Blurry Past

Last year was a toughie...and I couldn't talk it through. So I wrote.

To The Mentor

I only want to make you proud--
It's your fault my voice is so loud.
Tell them I'm yours.
Tell them you formed me.
Tell them you'll claim me.
Tell them that I am
The performer
The person
The friend
That you want me to be.

To The Estranged Friend

I can't make you love me,
I can't make you care.
What's left to be determined
Is if I want you there.
Do I want a friend who hurts me?
Do I want to cry?
Can I handle the pain
Of always wondering why?

To Myself

Mind and Matter
Are two different roads.
I feel I've passed the fork,
But am not sure which I chose.

To The Best Friend

Tell me the reason
I feel you're not there when you are.
Explain to me why
I feel you're both here and afar.
It seems we walk together
On two parallel paths
And can't share the road
For the median is too vast.
I feel you're there--
But barely.
You fade from my fingers
And I cannot seem to grasp
Either why you're here or why you're gone--
Our mouths move,
but the question cannot be asked.
More elusive than the question,
the answer can't be heard.
The secrets are too many,
The pains, they run deep,
But I reach for you from habit,
Just like eyelids closing
When embraced by sleep.

To The Boy

I want to know your secrets--
To understand your mind.
I want to discern your fears--
That's why I tell you mine.
I hope you'll open up,
I pray you'll let me in,
But until then
I'll just be here,
Content to be your friend.