I need to be a rock

I’m really not up for this. To love. I don’t want it. I don’t want to love. I’ll take my pets. My child. My hobbies. Don’t think I don’t love you. I just don’t want to. I want to run away. I want to be gone from this painful place with no light. No kindness. No friends. I need to leave. Be in the woods. Be alone. Where the light is just light. The trees are just trees. The magic is just magic. Nothing more, nothing less. Why can’t you see that your patience and kindness, your heart and soft hands ruin me? I need to be a rock. Just there. One among many. Don’t ask. Just leave. It’s better that way for all of us. Please.

In the Seeking

I already know I can’t search out, cobble together, what I need. It’s not right here, so I have to find it.

Does it become more valuable because I have to dig it from the ground? Wrench it from the Earth’s clutches?

In the seeking, I learn what’s truly desired. Or is it now an obsession? Or just a waste of time? Or is it just lost to me? Am I run by convenience and the unnecessary?

Easily distracted by everything; overshadowed by the Shiny. Here I am, allowing coercion, manipulation, influence.

Why?

Because I’m desperate, lonely, and willing.

Middle of Things

        It’s safest for me to walk in the center of the road, far from either side as I can be. Keeping from what’s real.

And imagined.

Looming in, creating shadows.

Silence, all at once golden and terrifying, grates at my ears.
Its full weight pressing me to that white dashed line. Unbearable, like the heavy hands of god showing me how I’ve failed. Then the gift of lifting off, releasing. Allowing me to rise, my back to straighten, my head to turn, and my heart to beat.

I need to leave this line. Pick a side.

And go.

And Yet

And yet, you choose to defend
With blind eyes and closed ears
Ignoring your Truth.

Hope seeps through your fractured heart.
Slowed evermore by Should, like
Sand, those tiny glistening bits of quartz,
clogging all sense
Of self.

Drawing a line between protecting and sacrificing,
Your search is endless and meaningless.
Blanketed by Ought, and held out of reach
By your own hand.

Extending forever outward in all directions
Never to realize
Nor to accept
Each dream, each desire stems from within.

| CLOSE | SAND | DEFEND | STEM | LINE |

-Weekly Writing Challenge #163 Poetry from the secret keeper

Sitting With The Sad Few

white ines and asphalt in car park

I spend a lot of time in parking lots
not avoiding
but really most likely
avoiding

I spend a lot of time
in empty lots
early in the morning

save for the sad few that
park and sit and wait

wait for clarity
wait for decision
wait for answers

vast empty spaces
have no answers
bulldozed and covered in an layer of asphalt
they only offer a place to sit

a place to wait
a place for nothing
a place to observe the emptiness

even when they’re full
sitting with the sad few
we park on opposite ends

avoid eye contact
avoid each other
avoid acknowledging that we’ve gathered
separately
together

to be sad

Not Quite Shards

Cracked pane,
lightning splintering jagged
edge to edge

Not quite shards,
Plates hold
Balanced

New space created
One to many
Delicate footing

Held fast
With hope and
Sheer will

Not quite shards,
Rumbling trucks pass by
Rattle the smallest piece

Loose
A glinting shower
Of dreams

All shards now
And an empty
Pane