death

from bed, before the storm

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

turn around

you’ll find what you want

bleach or black paint brush strokes delivering your excuse

conditions deciding how you move forward

entertained by lapsing memory stories distilled down to a single purpose

to relieve guilt

campfire laughter erupts from recollections of near-death drunken nights

morning comes and tears fly sideways, reminders of locker-room terror found at the hands of a stare which led everything astray

i ended up whisking away any sense of innocence i could have sensed before you walked my way

at least, that became the story

everything was just fine

i blacked out the gold after being told that the hand i held would melt and meld with dreams delivered and awoken by nightmare screams

forcing me to stir

stranded on a balance beam without the ability to focus

admonish what came before

funnel to a pinpoint why you’re here

face forward

keep walking

be near

from the porch, no need for a jacket

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

excuse shame

nothing left to explain

emotions overrun

everything is ok

except

it’s not

we need to tighten formalities so recently agreed upon abnormalities don’t succumb to the lazy-life norm

acceptance of everything born

indecision and complacency that won’t keep us warm

you fucked up

it was your fault

we needed wood, you got lost

reliance lost

someone else will do it

you’re free to go

replaceable

i’ll argue that claim

someone else may step-up, accept the blame, yet dynamics established through esteem while walking in day-work dreams may appear replicable, natural selection, the last insurrection to the idea that we are all one

they’re not, replicable

now we agree

though different facades distinguish you from me and we need each piece to satisfy the whole, ferreting out the mole from the hole of white-guided by sight souls trying to discover what it means to be human

the toll

i sit at night and contemplate

our disastrous fate

that doesn’t have to be

interactions

the game we play

to find who is the border and who gets to sway in the middle of this puzzle finding one another, loosening the muzzle

speaking freely

this is where i find peace

the same way your reflection gives you away, staring alone with an erection

the mirror is two way

we see you

thinking you can satisfy yourself

while we know it’s one another

erasing excuses

learning

building

becoming a fault, one we can fill

after we instill

the beauty gazed upon

created

if we don’t get distracted by what’s on the sill

from the porch, figuring out where things should go

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

organized thoughts demand order

you sought to destroy

i ran away from programming the syllables that bounced from my mouth and relied on intuition to avoid the faults forgetting that you had a perfect plan

i stampeded through your home breaking everything known to hold the mystery of where our love had flown with bumble bee rhythm getting further from the holy hymn that we hummed harmoniously to fall asleep

i can’t sort this one out

chasing away scurrying doubt

as i dance about the perpendicular lines of our love

from bed, what is this friendship?

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

i’m never quite sure where i belong

it’s not that complicated

it shouldn’t be

climbing up to witness your friendship without fee and falling when i’m not sure who’s me

it’s not you

a benefit to leaking emotions allowing you to see

let’s glide together

to another plain plane we’ll decorate with dreams

color splashed

then desecrate with grey doubts

rain clouds spit out mistrusted needs

i can’t meet you anymore

on the floor above the ones we hate

i’m the stranger

thinking friendships are sacrificial alters

unsure why i’m dying

and you’re not crying

from the porch, basking in shadows cast

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

defend the case for always being a bridesmaid

i never have to choose

the dress or shoes

waiting for the next to drop where a microphone sat after being spat into with slurred words offering a burnt piece of bread smothered in butter

i could have done better

that’s why i’m the one raising a glass

i stand and smile, while others turn around to face the face wearing a crown before being covered in enough food to feed the famine across dark and polluted oceans

where am i going with this?

standing behind while the hand kissed becomes a fist losing site of the target aimed for in this accolades fight

it’s all of ours

that platter

let’s fill it and tare apart home cooked batter, pulling from what we kneaded to make our lives real

this connection

a purpose selection

recognizing roles

aren’t reversed

from the porch, you can’t continue to decide

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

“look at the spiral

face aglow in defining malleable elements to create the essence of this space ride we’re all on

children”

you always seemed to drift away when i was lost replaying the conversations of a day that spun my mind wondering if i was okay

or, the one who missed something

i wrestle with trusting myself

when pictures of realities painted and placed in front of me are science fiction examinations

the human condition

yet their beliefs of what is occurring simultaneously with the rhythm i walk in while humming a tune of humanity with all i encounter

doesn’t match mine

did i miss something?

was the sky red while rain fell, washing seeds of sin from loose soil into a sea that held the toil of so many men, and women, to be sure, witnessing their planting of hope join a body of water stagnant with despair

did i miss something?

were conversations, honest exchanges, nothing more than rearranges of designs you wanted others to distinguish when interpretation should have reigned

did i miss something?

did you hear anything?

i was well aware

it was you caught in an insecure stare drawing up your plans for what you wanted to perceive

preconceived

pre-determined

i didn’t miss a thing

you lost track of me.

from a couch, below the knee

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

stationary bias

i can’t lift a brow of forgiveness anymore

our book tumbles

pages mixed together

it’s your turn

lift a leg and kick, wiggle your toes

drift apart

i’ll stick to the one memory that didn’t make me nauseous

cautious

contained in a box, wrapped and unwanted

i sat under trees as a kid

your selfish ways made me lift the lid and rid the world of desires that hid on shelves

presence you never gave me

dates never came

we didn’t believe

he came to reclaim

i’d rather forget my last name

than feel the shame that came when the finger of blame was pointed at me

from bed, discontented yawning

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

cramped sides and quarters

led to denial and costly borders

sand and mountains weren’t enough

to keep you out of this spacial game where the goal is to gather stuff and stuff it in stuff until there is no more stuff and you climb inside the hole we prepared when love was lost and you just stared up the aisles and down my throat waiting to choke the friends we poke when we want to think we’re being cute

i couldn’t care anymore about the friendships that bore a lost hope life listless and with a whore

its close and threatening our ground game

i marched towards your house

turned around and realized there wasn’t enough room

the desert should have the answers

three friends and days will watch me

find something new to complain about

and be hung for

from my grandpa’s bed, we crawled through the night

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

capture the critters that crawl through the night

wrap your head in emotions that help guide us through the flight of fleeting thoughts that create a sight

the only thing left to do is fight

fight for one another

against the other

who write off our reactions to a dead relationship with my brother

he was your keeper before we trapped him and i never expected him to stay in his desk

it was too small

school house walls were confining

learning defined, how wrong his nurtured soul was raised

we tried to be nice

throwing rice as you walked by in sunday’s best

we knew the rest of the story would lead to a fall from glory

the second story

where i looked out and contemplated the impact of impulsive decisions

i backed away

turned the page

decided it was better not to engage

with the spindly spiders catching everything we forgot to chase

from bed, i miss your light

Posted on by andrewsmeyer

it’s not the skipping of rocks gliding and plopping into a lake too cold to swim in that brought me here

shivering in a vest i never wear

it’s yours

it’s not the drive through green thistle conifers hugging our travels that brought me here

gazing out the window past emotions filling the glove box

those are yours

it’s not the musty poof from the couch i drop on, sitting in a unlit room waiting for you to bring in our bags that brought me here

that’s your job

it’s not the shifting in a twin bed, creaking as i stir, wanting to spoon out the cure that brought me here

those nights are rehearsed

it’s not the sandwich lunches, served dinners, or bacon and eggs that brought me here

i usually eat alone

it’s not the late nights sitting with flames losing myself in sparks dancing on stick tip games that brought me here

you stoked the fire

it’s not you

grade school, high school too, claims

it’s me

i wanted to discuss my attire, shift in the seat, lie on your love seat, roll on our mattress, wake and sustain life to see you glow across the cylindrical container where humans first realized

everything is illuminated