The skies are gray from my window
Reflecting moods like a warped mirror
Bought at a three-ring circus clearance sale
I was so mad at you for writing that letter
As if I were five years old!
Indeed…
Concerning certain circumstance
My predilection for faux-rebellion
Voting against my own best interests
You see these things as they are
And act accordingly
The truth is
I’m crippled without your love
But my thoughts took me to the highway no matter
Regardless of insanity
There in my mind I saw the world
Without you…
More gray than central coast skies in March
Cold winds howling lonely depths of doom
Suspicions rise in small town destinations
Twisted faces staring at a stranger
I am exactly what they see
A drifter beaten down by life
Looking for temporary shelter
Told there are no vacancies and turned away
A veritable twilight zone
Of coffee shops, empty parks and gas pumps
Pulling up my collar to falsely brave the fate
Which didn’t have to be
My last dollars spent on luke warm coffee
And cheap cigarettes
Too tired to write down a final farewell
Simply finding a stoic corner
To close my eyes one last time
I’ll find you in the next life
Just to say, “I didn’t need you”
But that’s a lie
There are no words
To convey this knowledge
The words “I love you” seem trite
Within emotional hurricanes
And self-inflicted cardiac damage
Yet I open my eyes
To look upon the gray skies of March
Safe within our home
It seems I could never leave you
We’re in it far too deep for that
Locked within each other
As the world carries on
I can’t remember what you said
The first time we met
But I remember your smile
It’s the same smile you showed me
When you came home
And found me lost in blankets
Red-eyed and unshaven
A rumpled mess of poetic angst
Your smile not born of my pain
But because I was still here
Then it vanished
As you crawled in next to me
Our tears blended into one
A heavenly blanket of fog and mystery
The gray skies of March keep us safe
Until the sun sneaks back
And we dance within it’s warmth
Singing out in off-key notes
Which sound just perfect to our ears
Postscript….
Six months later
You kicked me out anyway
Just for being who I am
There is no animosity
I’m in too deep another life for that
Namaste
Second Postscript…
One month after that you took me back…
Here we are…
Now what?
