Off the Floor, In the Yard

It's an odd beast, isn't it?
This thing called hope;
Always coming back after it's been kicked down,
Discarded and disbelieved,
Tucked away in some desk drawer for the night.

It's not always a brighter tomorrow.
It might be a head above water, off the floor,
A resignation to try again.
Surprising lungs full of air, sudden silences in the yard,
At the very least it's making it through the day.
It's not always pretty, picking yourself up again,
But it is enough.

Three Scenes

A Scene

I wanted to write you a letter,

Hoping the waves would hold their course.

Knowing someone could get drunk off of you

But I wound up with an empty cup.

Be Seen

Some days the world holds sunlight;

Alive and dancing in halls of hospitals, schools, and cities.

So bathed in sunlight we are washed away.

See, Seeing, Saw

There are doors and halls

Leading to more halls and doors.

We're all so well dressed, our best.

Different clogs, different clicks, here's your exit.

Time makes strangers of us all.

Girl

She shook,
Afraid to be simply a supporting soul
In someone else's story,
So she simply breathed.
Out
And in.
Out
And in.
And started again, constructing her citadel.

Her walls were monolithic against the sky,
Even birds soared below their spires.
The walls kept the winter winds away
And gave shade from the summer heat.
But most importantly, it kept the city at bay.

The city was a surge from a sea of people;
A million ants swarming in the colony
All moving as an indomitable glacier.
She was right to build herself into a fortress.

She is safe behind the walls
And that's all that matters.
No shadows were left,
She shone into all the corners of her kingdom,
Sweeping away the encroaching darkness.

She is finally free to be who she needs.

Boy

Some days you just don't see coming.

Born from quiet desperation,
He attached his devotion
To any person willing to look his way.
Loss of blood, lack of heart
Let someone hold it, they stole it, tore it apart.

Remember the boy at the end of the street.
Bright eyed and light hearted,
Speaking with words honest and earnest,
All to his fault.
Best intentions fell aground on malicious inventions
Born from self-preservation of innocence.

He embodied an apology,
The way some men are forever stuck downtown,
Always wishing the grass was greener at home.
So the boy split himself up and let parts of him go,
Home with those he thought who needed him most.
A boy apart, on shelves and beds, just some abstract art.

Now he's taking himself back,
A tendon, a muscle, a bone, a sinew at a time;
Everything coming together in its right place.
He was terrified at how whole he could be.
Starting again the process of being,
By learning to walk and learning breathe,

The boy came alive and the boy became fine,
Recovered himself and restarted his journey.
A little bit hurt, a little bit new,
The boy was himself and that was enough.