Much of life is
near misses
and it’s not like
there’s a lot
of second chances
so letting go
and sacrifices
are real misses
in the end
strike outs
knowing this time
that just passed
never returns

some days
I just can’t see
the point
of pontificating
once again
why you gotta act
so damn wise
you’re just in
the trenches
of living and bleeding
strong deep feelings
but there’s no games
there’s no answers
just the settling hold
of the uncertainty
creeping in totally
moving in
while I was busy

he went right past me
now white sprinkling
his beard and here
his eyes deeper
than when they last
looked at me
the face of the years
is staring right at me
and regret pulls in
just near enough

and I can’t stand to be
so painfully clear
the closings are catching
up to me
snagging my skin
with wrinkled expressions
my freckled emotions
always uneasy to fit
neatly into something
uneven like my inspiration
not easy to cover up
with a plain foundation

slippery rebellious passions
punitive transgressions
I just won’t bow my head
to being put in a box
so I chafe at the edges
of my epic mistakes
while wishing I could just
be more tame like the rest

but I just can’t seem
to behave the way
I’m expected and I love
and I break all the same
while trying not to hate
the very fear of shame
or the conflict
that just haunts me
with his face

They tell me it goes away
they say a lot of things
but I’m skeptical
that anyone else can know
the shape of my intentions
from the outside
looking in
the question springs
only to meet
its death quietly
because of the answer
always birthed within
in the dark
warm moist corner
of my fertile mind

I’m told to make a choice
and state what I want
yet I still continue to fall
flat on my face
I won’t even pretend that
that, right there
held any grace
my boldfaced beliefs
give me away
all my prejudice
staring me back
in the eyes
it’s hard not to squirm
not to want to escape
under the scrutiny
of my most glaring truths

I just can’t even
go there at all
shifting out of place
sync up my pace
it’s night
and the road is long
and all the usual
words are gone
with the comfort that’s lost
to all the qualities
she stresses
I just don’t possess
I’m your beautiful mess

I wish I could crawl away
from the shame
and disappear
if that could
just make it cut
a little less
if only it didn’t gut me
so deeply
if only I could

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Ruben says:

    Es bonito, su forma de escribir, este si me incinero el corazón. Felicidades muy bello su capacidad de escribir.

  2. Ruben says:

    Órale, un buen análisis de lo que pasa en el mundo humano.

    1. Ruben says:

      Filosa y amarga, nectarina en palabras, su poesía no se enfría Arya aunque no la comamos fría.

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