The Last Nice Thing

The Last Nice Thing

 

If you don’t stay

I’ll –

kill myself.

overdose.

You’ll have pushed me

off the edge.

It’ll be your fault

if you don’t

stay.

 

So this will be

the last nice thing

I ever do for you.

 

“Hey… this is his –

now ex

I guess.

I’m not expecting anything

[since you’ll probably take his side]

but he did threaten,

to go off the deep end.”

 

“I’d hate to see him do that to himself”

“So don’t let him”

“Okay?”

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Soon enough

Soon enough

 

In 30 seconds

you will be underwater

In 40 seconds

you will be

unconscious

 

In 45 seconds

the light will turn green

And in 50

you’ll nearly kill your little sister.

 

In 55

she’ll realized what’s happened.

And in 60

she’ll panic.

 

 

“Dude… would you be okay

if we stop at dads?”

I remember that his wife is home today.

 

 

“No I just really need a drink of water.”

No man, I just don’t feel too well.

 

 

I feel….

warm.

That kind of warm that makes you… tired.

I blink.

 

 

and then…

Something’s gone wrong.

Continue reading “Soon enough”

Monster

Monster

he hides under my bed

he hides inside my closet

he hides within those blankets

those pillows

those jackets

he hides within those jeans

he hides

here

let me set the scene:

 

there’s an abandoned home

where it’s all colored monochrome

a layer of dust has turned the colors

and now turns away any others

 

who would step foot here?

who would dare live here?

who would dare come here –even to move out?

 

when he hides

sucking even the walls dry

of memories

of feelings

preparing you better for the leaving

 

he has decided it’s better this way

if you don’t even want to come to move out

surely the move would never be blocked by doubt

 

he hides

in the mattress

in the wave chair

in the dresser

in the headboard

and in all miscellaneous personal treasure

 

who would dare step foot in his room?

who would dare come and face him?

when you’ve run from him for so long

this is no longer a place for you –so go along

 

he hides

in the cabinet

in the spot where the bed used to be

where the Christmas tree used to be seen

 

and he controls

in fear

in dread

in that lump in your throat

in that turn you make to walk away

 

when you finally have no other choice

you have to stand and fight

and you stare right into the face

right into the face of that Monster –that you created.

 

he’s inside the closet you’re cleaning out

he’s inside the drawer you’re cleaning out

he’s inside the bathroom that’s a dingy white

he’s inside the shower you slept in that one night

 

he’s inside the window you now have to close

he’s inside the stuffed animals and stoves

he’s inside the litter box that was feared to be cleaned

and inside those fire alarms, your old fiend

 

why?

because he lived there too

through good and bad

he was the memories made

 

so you wait and wait

because if you’re at a distance you know someone else has to do it for you

you know you have to move out

but if you’re not there to help then someone else has to come

and they have to clean it out instead of you

so you can avoid him a little longer and make do

 

but now –he’ll live there forever

the Monster has won

 

he’s packed up

what wasn’t dealt with was thrown in a box

“i’ll face him later”

with pitiful fists and rocks

 

and now he’ll be moved into the new house

this old abandoned one will be sold

and he’ll be a ghost to anyone new

but when you…

oh if you step through

that door he’ll remind you

that:

 

“I live in the closet”

“I live in the place your bed once stood”

“I live in the place where I ended your childhood”

What if I quit?

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What if I quit? : A tribute to Mount Saint Helens

It starts with a memory

of trees in a haze.

Black and white and drizzling that day.

Playing and skipping

with Jesse himself.

Two kids laughing among everything else.

Oh how I’d begged,

and pleaded to go.

Ten years in the making was this very show.

Continue reading “What if I quit?”

10,000 FEET

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10,000 FEET

10,000 feet and I’m all high strung.

10,000 feet and my muscles are wrung.

High above all else,

Here where the snow never melts.

An even greater achievement than last time,

To make this hard a climb.

Twice I’ve made it with determined intent,

If I am not to go back I think I’m content.

Massive mountains are now mini,

And round trees are truly skinny.

Up here where the air is thin,

And too long a break turns your limbs to tin.

Not quite at my mountain’s top which stands unreachable,

Yet I feel welcome as one of her people.

“Will this satisfy the little girl who wanted to go to the top?”

My feeling of pride knows not where to stop.

For I am 10,000 feet from where you look up.

10,000 feet and blessed with this close up.