I Run To You

I can’t stay away
I see you in the distance
afraid you’re just a mirage
I drop everything and run
discontent with here
desperate for there

to be right where you are.


I Will Do The Same

When all you want is out of reach
And everything you once believed
Falls away like leaves from trees
Trampled in bits beneath their feet
Know this is not how your story ends

When the bare walls are closing in
And you think everyone you once loved
Has turned their back and run
Leaving you crowded in loneliness
Know this is not how your story ends

When the seasons tear down your dreams
and loneliness spoils nearly everything
When your shattered mind is your darkest fear
And you run from the kaleidoscope of terror
Spinning incessantly between your ears
Know this is not how your story ends

Hold on with all you are
I promise you
I will do the same

When your feelings are crashing waves
Toppling each other to kiss the shore
Pulling back in search for more
Know they shape the landscape of tomorrow
Tonight is not when your story ends

Because you aren’t as broken as you think
And if you are, you’re broken just right
To me, you’re a desperately needed light
A beacon calling is bravely into tomorrow
Tonight is not when our story ends

Hold on with all you are
I promise you
I will do the same


Why aren’t you here
where I need you most?

Why aren’t you here
as I call out to you?

Deaf, I listen for you
between echoes of futility
repeating in my head.

Blind, I look for you
in this abysmal void
of my endless night.

Are you there?
Are you anywhere?

Are you–were you ever–real?

Why I Cower

I’m like a lion in the cage
when you come in wielding
your whip and wooden stool.

The kids see the fear in my eyes
and think it’s the whip
driving me back into the corner.

They don’t appreciate my need
to prioritize my attention
on the one most immediate threat.

They don’t realize I’m looking
at the four legs of that stool
all moving in perfect unison.

Four separate points of interest
–four separate threats–
all attacking with equal immediacy.

I am not afraid of the weapon.
I am afraid of the chair.
I am afraid of the thing they take for granted.

But I’m not a lion in a cage.
You aren’t a circus tamer
and they aren’t children.

We’re just two people
in a casual conversation
trying to get to know each other.

But my anxiety and fear are still evident
in my eyes and my body language,
and they still misunderstand

why I cower.


you only seem to appreciate
the uniqueness of special
when I go off without you

do you see your own hypocrisy
when you go off without me
making special memories

while you expect me
to just sit here
waiting for you?


I think I’m funny
at a subconscious level.
I think I’m funny
so deep in my psyche
I belt out jokes
without thinking before I speak.
I want to make friends
and keep them for life.
But I think I’m funny
so that’s not working out
like I had hoped it would
because I’m not funny.

Ashes to Ashes

from energy and matter

hung a shameful tatter
which, like a wick
from a keg of powder,
lit as life only got badder

from a one-rung ladder–
from where hope fell
as screams grew louder,
love replaced empty patter

here among the ashes
where energy used to matter.