Another Again

How we hope

craft fact into fiction

little triumphs

of rationalization

but in the end it

plays in our ears

that same old song

try again, my love

stop looking for wisdom

once again you are

nature’s victim

take a deep breath

carry on

nothing more to see here

you were wrong

Falling Off

That night in Christine’s guest room it took me ages to fall asleep—only Daisy’s canine snores assured me that I was safe.  When I did finally drift off, I found myself in the meadow I could never paint.  Sitting in the grass, leaning back on my hands, I felt the warm sun on my face.  The dragon, however, was nowhere to be seen.  

Awake again in the morning, I felt bereft.  Even my dragon had left me.

At breakfast Christine set a small padded envelope on the table.  “I don’t know if now is the best time,” she told me, “but I promised Rick I would give you this.” 

I recoiled.

“No problem," she said, withdrawing the envelope.  "I’ll just hold on to it until you’re ready.”

Silence descended between us.  And then I asked, “How was he?”

“Quiet.  Unhappy.”

“How often did you see him?”

“Just a couple of times.  Daisy stayed with him while I was with you at the hospital.  He didn’t leave until he knew I could take care of her.”

I almost smiled, thinking about how much Daisy would have liked that.  But then the almost-smile faded from my face.  At least Daisy had been able to say goodbye.

The Sharp Side of the Blade

The not knowing
its claws steal tiny bits 

until you are twitching

on the floor 

a breathing corpse 
no before or after
only today

bloody ragged today 

its pins in all of your
sore places 

as you stare at your 
own face 

upside down in the mirror

for something that can 
be turned

the needles      
they poke and they prod     
ensure none of the neurons 
are working             

so one small dog

sleeps curled up in  

a ball

while I

I know nothing at all

only that in the end

everything is a lie

that small dogs do not 

live forever

and neither will I 

Yesterday Visions

I wish I could be cleaner that I could stand up

I would stand up and tear

out pages that make me sad

but there is no reason to give up anymore

the dragon in the elevator is our friend

he blows smoke so I cannot see

the smoke hurts my eyes

but better the smoke than the dream

if my eyes water it isn’t the same

as crying

I do not cry

I am a bunny in a hutch

the hutch is safe

but I want to be out

with the other bunnies

The dragon is in the fireplace

I see his glowing eyes

this time I cannot be afraid

he hears the dog howl too

if only I could howl along

there are no clues just riddles

the dog only wants to be home

I wish I could help him

but like me his home is long

gone

Intervention

For the first time since my marriage, the dragon visited my dreams that night.  As we stood facing each other in the meadow I could never paint, I told him, “You were right.  I don’t love them.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “I hope you don’t feel responsible.”

“The worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves.  But, please—do you know who he is?”

“Of course.  So do you.”

My shoulders slumped.  “I knew you wouldn’t tell me.  I’m just so tired.”

“Then wake up,” the dragon answered.  “You’ve been asleep long enough.”

With a start I opened my eyes.  When I glanced over at Rick, he was sleeping soundly next to me.  It was almost morning.

Lifting the Veil

You think you know.  But you will never know.  You are trapped in the network.  The hallway has no exit.  The bicycle has no wheels.  If you step outside of the red lines there is nothing to stand on.  You will fall, and not remember how to scream.  Because you are a story I sold for a million howls of laughter.  For a million screams of pleasure.  I tore you into tiny pieces and gave those pieces to anyone who asked.  No one cared then, and no one cares now.  You cannot escape what you were meant to be: a piece of lint to be flicked away, blown into nowhere.

Nice try.

Don’t tell me you don’t know

don’t tell me you don’t know

here we are and away we go...

Looking In

because your shame hid away

a slow game come to play again

the mercy you traded

bursting with color

and what you thought finished

only just started