So today I got laid off from the best job I've ever had the opportunity of working. In turn I went to the beach and split a six pack between a homeless man and myself.
The alcohol helped but the real difference was made by walking barefoot in the sand, feeling the cold, invigorating ocean wash over my naked toes.
We discussed nature and "what is God?" and the magnaminities of life altogether. If for just an afternoon, my problems were quieted. There are bigger things.
I am on the brink of implosion,
the weight of it all is heavy,
so heavy,
and drags me to
a central pinpoint
of nothingness.
A vicious storm,
Flurries of blistering emotion
Lash cruelly about.
The icy snow
Whips at me,
Leaving me stung
And becoming numb.
So heavy does it fall,
My vision is obscured
And I cannot see.
I don't know the way.
Ambiguously I trudge on
Without direction,
My only aim being
Refuge from the enclosing chaos.
I fear the peace I find
Once I'm finally warm
Will only be the eye of the storm.
I try to write about how you make me feel.
I can't.
It's not that I can't articulate, that I can't remember
strong hands, safe embraces,
salty kisses and the
scent of your skin.
I can.
But the thought makes me sick.
And it's always highlight,
erase.
I'm trying.
To write, to talk,
To be normal,
Resume.
I can't.
