Metanoia

A voiceless voice stuck worrying of what has yet to come

A repetant delusion afraid of what might become

I sleep alone

I awake

alone.

I'll get back to the bitterness and gloom. but right now its okay to be present and feel alright

every night i sleep. alone. naked. but alone. every morning I wake up late. alone. naked. and look in the mirror at myself. it's nothing visually exciting. behind me there is an empty room. a naked boy steals most of the view. this morning i awoke. alone. naked. happy. i looked in the mirror and said, david things are pretty ok.

Miles from Midnight

I'm counting the days but my nights have me numbered. I'll lose one more of whichever like every vacation or hotel stay even though the place I'm leaving is home. My car ride out is an opus of silent symphonies that scream for more lowered expectations as my route proves I've bitten off more than I can chew.

The Words Found Me

I get to work early today; I'm that much closer to death. I walk to the corner store and buy another last pack of Camels. I look up at the dusk retreating away and pray for the sunrise to make haste.

I'll Start From Scratch Again, It's Better Than Starting From Itch

I drove you to your house where you said you sleep and parked the car. It didn't feel right, yet. You looked at me ardently searching your eyes for something that resembled the romance I found in your voice when you asked if I would walk you to the door. I stayed a step behind trying to figure out my place you'd find most satisfactory. You turned around and caught me staring at the pavement's cracks. I grabbed your hips, you leaned in and laughed when I missed your lips. I was hoping it would wake your father whom I imagined was sleeping by the door waiting for you to come home. This moment was too perfect for just the both of us and your porch light. But he didn't wake up. And I didn't care.