Come Close (day 3103)

I don’t know how to tell you I love you anymore
For every way I know of has been told.
There’s no light I haven’t seen you amicably in,
No space I haven’t felt your soul in,
No memory I haven’t found
Where I’d thought you don’t belong
And my song’s always filled with your name.
But the days that pass
Are filled with an unmistakable void
That is you not being here by my side
Which silences my song to every corner of my world
And hurts me like a dying star should.
Where do I go to feel my sorrow
That hasn’t already been felt deeply so?
What path can I take that leads me astray
To a new thought upon a new day?
Where are your words that paint me pictures
Of what keeps you far off, away
To put my mind in an infinite at ease
And understanding of what furrows my brow?
So I tarry and wander
With my hands buried deep
Shaking off the cold inferno,
With my voice, hardly shaking
Reminding me always
That it’s you whom I love
So come close.

Wander To Withdraw (day 3049)

I wandered here as if lost
One eye on the path
The other asking my Gods
What makes a Man a Man.
I saw sunlight between the boughs
I saw spiders in their webs
I saw the great Fir’s bark
So cavernous and traversed.
I felt deep inside my heart
The partridge that took flight;
So close and thunderous,
So quickly she was off.
I saw the dam the busy Beaver built
Saw his second one too
Which made me feel like an invader
A secret nest so wild.
Then I turned at a landmark
Headed towards where I knew
And back to my familiar trail
To home I then withdrew.

Marigold (day 1527)

I was a gale, like others could,
I came to life ever so lived.
And in the wandering hours I had,
I chanced upon a new found friend
Who wore the colors of my heart
Up and down her train of thought.
And in the evening sun we beamed,
Her every moment flowed and went,
At once nestling amongst her friends,
Then alone, betwixt my hand and hers.
We sat in silence for a while,
Adjusting and detecting all,
Like a playful waltz in time,
My marigold, at last, was mine.

Coconut Oil (day 1477)

Dear George,

I’ve been wandering the streets late at night wondering where I am, what I’m doing here, how I got here, what day it is. I know this is kind of silly, just a simple glance at my watch I’ve begun to wear again, but I think it’s more in theory: I’m lost. Can you associate?

I don’t look at my hands much anymore. They’ve become acceptable. I now am fascinated with my chin. The various states of hair growth, the different shape it takes upon waking, after shaving, after showering, at night, in the morning. Have you ever noticed this difference?

It has become obvious to me that my morbid thoughts aren’t normal. No, I am not always dying. The pain in my hip is not my insides unwinding. The twitch in my breast isn’t what it feels like to have your lung spewing it’s contents into my stomach. My throat glands will hurt that much if I jab them consistently. Ears aren’t meant for sharp objects, nor is my nose, throat, bum…

Well, the rumors are true. I’ve begun to enjoy the pleasures of massage. Can you believe I went this long in life without ever truly exploring what my muscles could handle, besides that which I do for muscle growth? I get lost for good lengths of time just trying to understand why my muscle is flip-flopping as it does. I notice when I lie flat on the ground that a muscle in my back shifts a bit. I notice my calves are incredibly tight. And to have somebody else do it for me?! Goodness.

Life changed.

Have you discovered the wonders of coconut oil yet?

With all my brotherly love,

Red.