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214 · Mar 28
Freedom, Community, Fun.
Dirt Mar 28
Let’s scream-sing half-drunk,
half-memorized lyrics to our favorite songs
at 3:33 in the morning.

Let’s nestle between fields of clover,
our laughter mixing with the night air.
Let’s bathe together, blowing iridescent bubbles,
each one a fleeting moment of magic.

Let’s climb the trees in your backyard,
feeling higher than any drug could take us,
hearts racing with the thrill of being alive.

Let’s share our souls,
the raw, unfiltered parts of us,
and be our true selves
in each other’s presence.

Let’s be,
no pretenses, no walls,
just the quiet knowing that we are enough
as we are, in this moment, together.
206 · Sep 2017
Taken
Dirt Sep 2017
Was it she who took you from me?
She who filled your mind with falsities?
She who painted me with blacks and red, when you knew in your heart that we were yellows and blues?
She never did like me, but I can't tell you how much it hurts that she would get through to you this much.
My life was planned around you and i'm not so sure that i can draft more plans.
A bottle of whiskey and a handgun are much cheaper than a flight, but I was willing to buy that flight.
She is unbelievably good at telling you how to feel, I just wish you knew how to tell yourself.
Will I see you in heaven?
You were always my angel.
And I, your god.
I thought I could make my own heaven down here with you.
You crafted me a Hell, not one with fire and demons.
One with lies and heartbreak.
One of sleepless nights and sunken eyes.
One of empty stomachs and full minds.
200 · Apr 9
Safety
Dirt Apr 9
I don't know why I do the things that I do.
I know that I can get scared,
I know that I can be a lot,
I just feel safe when I'm with you
I think I used to make you feel,
how you make me feel,
I will get back to that,
I promise.
165 · Sep 2017
ode to a lost lover
Dirt Sep 2017
I will always be in love with you
You are my only one
Like Icarus to the sun
I got ahead of myself and got burned
My love has been engulfed in flames
Thinking, but not with my brain
163 · Mar 20
Dreamy
Dirt Mar 20
I long for the day I can look over and see your sleeping face,
Brushing away the weight of yesterday.
Your curls framing the peace you find in your dreams
Are you dreaming of me?
156 · May 1
Longing. Eternally.
Dirt May 1
Waiting around for your response,
Candlelight flickers in a hanging sconce.
A letter or message, what will it be?
A simple "hey" from you to me.

Which mode will you elect?
A tidal wave, or just a text?
Drown me in your heavy words,
Or toss me gently to the curb.

Leave no words left unsaid,
Don’t bash it into my head.
I've ached and wondered for so long,
Waiting for your little song.

My ear pressed up against the door,
Wishing, waiting, wanting more
154 · May 17
Timber
Dirt May 17
we built something
in the clearing,
quiet, green,
half-shadow,
half-trust.

you wandered off
chasing light
through darker trees,
calling it
your path.

i waited,
moss growing over
the words
we never finished.

when the axe fell,
it was gentle.
silent.
already done.

now,
i walk alone
through what’s left
of us,
and still,
the forest grows.
143 · May 16
Orbit
Dirt May 16
You asked for space,
said you needed to float,
to realign your stars.

But you were gravity
pulling someone else close,
while I drifted,
untethered,
alone in the dark.

So don’t call it healing.
Call it what it was,
eclipse.
123 · Mar 29
Obligatory Dog Motif
Dirt Mar 29
The loyal dog, bound to the feet of others,
Guarding, guiding, no matter the cost.
No claws, no tools, only teeth,
Tearing through the night,
Dyeing the fur red.
Scarring the legs, the chest,
Every fight adding more scars,
Some mental, some physical.
If he’s done well,
He might get the bones discarded from the table’s meal,
A flicker of praise,
And in that fleeting moment, he will be happy.
But still, the hunger gnaws.
This isn’t about a dog.
121 · Mar 19
Wounding
Dirt Mar 19
The scars upon my flesh grow dull and pale,

A reminder, though faded, of a lesson learned or a fight endured.

The wounds within my soul remain raw, vivid, and tender.

If they could be seen, they would weep and bleed,

A stark contrast to the markings that decorate my skin.

A lover, a friend, a stranger, a shrink,
No matter their attempts to heal, I react

Like a cornered animal, resisting any aid.

Can I, like a wolf trapped by a bear trap,

Chew through my own memories to escape the pain,

Or will they remain, festering and new,

A constant reminder of the wounds that still bind me?
107 · Sep 2017
its chill dont worry
Dirt Sep 2017
a thousand lies?
its chill dont worry
cheating?
its chill dont worry
jealousy?
its chill dont worry
mistrust?
its chill dont worry
disappearing for long periods of time?
its chill dont worry
pushing me away?
its chill dont worry
im slowly starting to decay?
its chill dont worry
breaking my ******* heart?
its chill dont worry
pulling the trigger on my dad's rifle?
It's chill, don't worry.
im really ******* bitter and its worse because im still in love
Dirt Mar 29
Put the car in park,

Take my hand in yours,

Whisper that you love me,

Tell me that you need me.
Kiss me soft and slow,

Make it last,

Make it more than just a kiss, 

A moment I'll cherish.
Hold me close, just for a minute,

Don’t let me go,

Just one more moment, you and I.
Dirt Sep 2017
If freckles were angel kisses would you give me more than i have?
if bruises were faerie kisses would you make me a multicolored green blue and purple mess?
would you do me the favor of showing me how much you love me with the hurt?
let me know i mean something to you with each mark
i crave the pain and the trauma please give it to me let me feel normal again
help me to feel anything at all
85 · Apr 10
Natural Beauty
Dirt Apr 10
Your skin is as soft as velvety lamb's ear, fresh from the woods,
Your smile is as bright and captivating as tiger's eye,
You grow like tomatoes, constantly stretching out and reaching out to the sky, advancing towards your goals.
Your heart is sweeter than a summer lemon drop melon, off of the vine,
Your cascading locks of hair are the envy of even the most majestic waterfall,
I guess what i'm saying is that I love nature, I see nature in you, and I love you.
84 · May 7
Moonbeam
Dirt May 7
Tiny hands reaching for mine,
Tears staining my shirt,
64 colors of the rainbow, spilled dreams on paper,
Steady breathing while sleeping,
Kicking feet under bedtime blankets,
Big eyes full of why and wonder,
A bashful smile I’d give anything to protect.
My sweetest girl, my Moonbeam.
83 · Apr 17
It's not your fault
Dirt Apr 17
Too many mistakes,

Too many missteps,

Too many broken pieces
A thousand shattered moments,

Too many.
It won’t be your fault, mom and dad.

It won’t be your fault, lover.

It won’t be your fault, sisters, brothers, friends.

Don’t ask what you could have done,

Don’t blame yourselves for not noticing.

I’m the one who let it pour from my chest,
A sieve that cannot be undone.

Heavy, like a blanket that smothers the light,

A weight that will not lift.

But it’s mine to carry,

And yours to leave behind.
80 · Apr 9
Closeness
Dirt Apr 9
I want to know your motives,
I want to know your ideals,
I want to know what makes your heart sing,
I want to know what makes your stomach churn,
I want to know why you feel the way that you do,
I want to know what makes you tick,
I want to learn your plans,
I wonder if you have any you haven't shared,
I wish for the day we share our time together,
I long for your hand in mine,
Our hearts swapping beats,
Our fingers entwined,
Our souls shared in each other's presence,
Our legs wrapped together,
Our bodies keeping time with one another,
Togetherness and closeness.
80 · May 14
I Am The Quiet Flame
Dirt May 14
I am the campfire that never dies,
burning steady through storm and silence,
warm enough to draw others close,
fierce enough to hold my ground.
My heart is a wide river,
carving through canyons with time and patience.
It overflows,
it gives,
it pulls everything it touches into it's current.
I carry laughter like a lantern,
swinging through dark places,
making shadows dance along the walls.
In my work, I am both the tree and the tool,
rooted, rough, full of potential,
shaping the world with hands that know
how to measure, how to mend,
how to bring form from chaos.
Stubborn as an oldgrowth redwood.
I bend in the wind
but I do not break.
Not because I’m unyielding,
but because I believe in what I am.
Poetry is the breath I hold underwater,
the truth that floats to the surface
when the noise fades.
It speaks in silence,
like a deer in the woods
watching, listening, knowing.
I move through nature
like a memory,
hiking trails that remember my footsteps,
fishing in still waters that mirror the sky,
hunting not for conquest
but for closeness,
for something ancient I can’t quite name.
In the car, I am wind,
untamed, unfiltered,
singing stories I don’t even realize I carry
until they escape me.

And then,
there was you.

You, who didn’t just see the flame,
but sat beside it,
added kindling,
watched it dance with wonder.
You were the echo of my own laughter,
the reflection in calm water
that looked back at me and said,
"Keep going."
You knew the language of sawdust and silence,
spoke in patience,
in presence,
in quiet belief.
With you, I wasn’t just whole,
I was seen.
Encouraged to grow without pruning.
Loved not in spite of the wild in me,
but because of it.
And then,
just as quietly as you came,
you were gone.
Not in anger, not in noise,
but like the sun slipping behind a mountain.
Suddenly,
the fire felt colder.
The woods, more still.
The echo, unanswered.
I am still the builder,
the helper,
the flame.
But now I carry your absence
like a second heartbeat,
silent,
constant,
felt in everything I create.
You are not here,
but you are not gone.
You live in the parts of me
you once believed in.
In the steady hands,
in the open heart,
in the trail I still walk alone
but never lonely.
Even in the silence,
I am still becoming.
And a part of you
is becoming with me.
79 · Apr 17
Alone
Dirt Apr 17
These nights in the dark,
They’re when I miss you the most,
When I fear what I can't know,
Where you are, what you're doing.
Are you with them?
Do you think of me?

In these dark moments,
That's when I truly feel alone.
I would reach out a tentative hand,
If I thought it would calm my racing heart.
"How are you?"
"I love you."
"Miss you!"
I'd lay my guts at your door
But it wouldn't help.
Neither of us.

Involve me in your life,
Don’t hide in the shadows,
Or cast them on me.
77 · May 3
Dirt/Patchwork
Dirt May 3
You threaded the needle to stitch my broken heart.
You pressed salve into wounds I dared not show.
You wrapped gauze around the blood I couldn’t stop.
You held my hand as I cried through the ache.

You kissed each bruise like a whispered promise,
Tender in your tending, patient in your care.
With your strength, I found my footing,
Together, we walked, side by side.

As you took to my wounds, I embraced yours:
A shaky hand, a trembling breath.
You welcomed the kindness, for a time,
Held my flaws,
Heard my pleas,
Rested in my presence.

But the salves began to drip,
Truth slipping through the seams.
The gauze frayed, falling to the floor,
Pain flaring where healing had begun.

The thread unraveled, stitch by stitch.
I turned to reach for you,
But your hands were busy
Mending someone else.

If only my wounds had mended
Before you treated me.

I’ll rub dirt in it next time.
76 · Apr 27
Strange mercy
Dirt Apr 27
The hand that beat you becomes the one that wipes away the tears,
The back that turned away from you becomes the one to carry your weight,
The shadow that cast upon you becomes the shade in which you find solace.
Funny,
how pain learns to cradle you,
or how we learn to let it.
76 · Mar 30
May you find peace.
Dirt Mar 30
No more poetry, my well's run dry.
My heart and eyes have no more tears to cry.
This will be the last poem I write.
The darkness has overcome the light.
75 · May 15
Gone cruisin'
Dirt May 15
I put my wheels to the sky, left your ghost behind,

You stood there frozen, with a cross I couldn't find.

Your eyes were oceans, but you never let them drown,

We lost the light, while we were still spinning 'round.
I gave you the stars, tried to pull 'em down,

Held on through fire, held on through the sound.

But some love’s a flame, it fades to the night,

And you can’t heal what’s broken in flight.
You held me like a memory, soft and cold,

This road we walked was more than I could hold.

Now you’ve found a new sunrise to chase,

While I’m just echoes in an empty space.
I gave you the stars, tried to pull 'em down,

Held on through fire, held on through the sound.

But some love’s a flame, it fades to the night,

And you can’t heal what’s broken in flight.
I loved you like rain on a desert shore,

Now I don’t know if I can love you anymore.

Still, I won’t look back at the rivers we’ve crossed,

I’d do it again, but not at the cost.
I gave you the stars, let 'em slip through my hands,

But love's just a whisper in shifting sands.

I’ll drive through the dark, let the past be the past,
Some roads are just dreams that never last.
73 · Mar 29
An overflowing love
Dirt Mar 29
I don't love in half measures.
If my love were bread, it would rise too much.
If my love were a beer, it would froth over the rim.
If my love were a tire, it would burst from the pressure.
If my love were a list, it would spill off the side of the page.
If my love were a river, it would flood the valley.
If my love were a garden, it would overtake every other plant.
If my love were a fire, it would scar the earth.
If my love were a song, it would echo through the heavens.
Are you ready for that?
Dirt May 2
I want connection without the plea,

A quiet knowing, you see me.
Not in the loud, performative way,

But in the hush of everyday.
I want safety in a soul's soft place,

Room to cry, to laugh, to misplace,

My calm, and not be cast aside,

But held, gently, while the storm subsides.
I want love that doesn’t need a stage,

But shows up anyway, day by day.

Love that’s in the dishes,

In the tangled legs,

In the bad jokes told while making eggs.
I want to come home and find you there,

Not fixing me, just being near.

Existing together in shared delight,

In morning messes and candlelight.
I want to be known, not just the face,

But all the shadows I still embrace.

Someone who’s curious, patient, true,

Who asks me questions no one else knew.
I want peace, not tiptoed dread,

Not feeling watched, or words unsaid.

But steady love, with open eyes,

With truth that never needs disguise.
I want passion, in your world and mine,

A partner who finds the time
,
To walk beside me, chase the spark,

Map constellations in the dark.
I want spontaneity, trails unplanned,

To dance in the ocean, or lie in the sand.

To hold your hand and not feel small,

To be my whole self, flaws and all.
When I'm anxious, I want your calm,

Not to fix me, just to lend your palm.

Stand with me while I learn to cope,

Rooted in love, and grounded hope.
I want space, but never distance.

Closeness with coexistence.
Not every second marked or planned,
But side by side hand in hand.

A love that grows, wild and wise,

But always finds its way back to "us" every time.
72 · May 14
My Muse
Dirt May 14
Remember when you called me your muse?
How I blushed, how you thought I was pretty,
a mirror of your words,
reflecting your longing back at you.
I see it now.

Now, I’m the one who carries that weight,
your image in my mind,
repeating over and over like a record skipping.
And I understand,
the beauty, the burden,
the heartbreak we circle back to,
over and over.
I’m sorry, darlin’,
for the ache I gave you then.

Everything is circular, isn’t it?
We’re just echoes,
tangled in the loop.
But this time,
maybe we’ll find a new rhythm.
Dirt May 10
I saw the boys tonight.
I saw a pretty boy,
But the bottle in my hand felt heavier
Than any heart I ever held.

You held me back,
My true love,
A fleeting ghost,
Now just a name in my past.

But I held my brothers,
And they held me too.
True love ain't always
A darling on my arm.

Sometimes, it’s the warmth shared
In a room full of noise and laughter,
In the stillness between the shots,
Where they listen, and I pour out
Every word of how we done each other wrong.

Despite all I've done,
Despite the fool I made of myself,
They still love me.
No judgment. No questions.

No matter what happens,
No matter what I lose,
I will have my friends.
They’re my true rocks,
My true lovers.

And in the end,
Maybe that’s the only love
That really lasts.

But you,
You are still a part of me,
A thread I can’t quite pull loose.
I don’t know what we’ll be,
But I’m learning to be okay with that.
If the future brings us back together,
It will be when we’ve both grown
Into something worth holding.
70 · Mar 20
Russian nesting dolls
Dirt Mar 20
I carry fragments of every version of myself.

A scared kid, alone, waiting in a car,
the world just beyond the window,

a quiet ache in my chest.

A troubled teen,

fingers trembling,

seeking solace in the burn of tobacco.

A young adult,

locked in a cage I built,

controlled by the world and its expectations.
But in the stillness of all these lives I've lived,

I’ve never surrendered.

I’ve learned how to survive.

I’ve fought battles, against myself, against the world,

I've been knocked down more times than I can count,
But I always get up.
I still work,

a slow, steady progress,

never perfect,

but always moving forward.
70 · Apr 19
Poem?
Dirt Apr 19
I type and delete.
I write and erase.
I compose and destroy.
The poems I haven't written could fill books.
70 · Apr 25
Cowboy
Dirt Apr 25
Kick your boots off, stay a while.
Hang your hat by the door.
Let the weight slip from your shoulders.

Wash the dust from your skin,
in the steam of my shower.
Rest your head on my chest,
I’ll tussle your hair, slow and easy.

No expectations here.
Just quiet.
Just breath.
Just us.
70 · May 4
Not if, but when.
Dirt May 4
If we come back to one another,
may we find the peace we missed out on as kids.
May we find the safety and connection that was lacking.
May we never cease to try,
to speak, to listen, to love one another.
May we bear our souls, gently, without fear.

If we come back,
may we see the kindness we embody.
May we hold each other tenderly.
May our wounds not be gone,
but turned to scars,
proof that we’ve healed, even if we haven’t forgotten.
May our expressions soften,
our edges wear down with time and care.

When I was young,
I thought love was the willingness to die for someone.
Now I know
it is the willingness to live,
to stay, even when it’s uncertain,
even without guarantees.
Even when I don't believe I'm worth it,
for you,
I will try.
70 · Mar 13
A bird in a zoo
Dirt Mar 13
The bird in the zoo,

A fleeting shadow,

While the tigers, lions, and bears sit pristine.

Behind glass, behind iron,

The ice cooler hums its silent cold,

A tire swing creaks in empty air,

A scratching post stands tattered,

Drawing the eyes of tourists,

The pride of the wild carry distant memories of jungles and savannahs,

Of woods that no longer exist,

Only flashes and pointed fingers remain.
They perform for their meals,

Hiding nothing,
Not a sliver of escape in sight,

There are no corners,

No refuge from the onslaught of gazes.

The birds come,

Landing briefly,

Their wings heavy with the weight of both freedom and confinement,

Dipping their beaks into water,

Picking at scraps,

And then, without a word,

They depart,

Gone again to the wild,

Leaving only the scent of freedom behind.
I, too, am a wild bird in a domestic zoo,

Half caged, half free,

My spirit soaring beyond the bars,

Yet tethered still to the eyes that watch me.
69 · May 6
Lover, listen.
Dirt May 6
I hope the words we whisper to one another
carry on the wind like a gentle song.
Lend an ear to the earth, and you'll hear
my heart that beats for you.

Gentle drips of water from mossy rocks,
telling you how much you mean to me.
The creaking trees, swaying in the wind,
implore you to listen.

If my voice fades,
let nature finish the verse.
69 · Apr 2
The Feast.
Dirt Apr 2
I doled out my fruit to those with hunger in their eyes.

Presented on a silver platter,

I handed out napkins at the banquet.

They consumed the feast greedily,

Knives and forks at the ready for a time.
But soon, the knives and forks grew tiring,

And they resorted to hands,

Tearing into the flesh of ham and turkey,

Ripping grapes from their vines,

Drinking from the wine to their heart’s content.

Ribs picked clean, cans scattered across the floor,

Appetites sated.
Left alone at the banquet,

Food all gone,

I wondered if my offering had been enough,

Had they ever seen me,

Or just my fruit?
Then you arrived,

Carrying two plates, each with a sunny-side-up egg.

You placed one in front of me,

And one in front of yourself.

"Can you please pass the salt?"
I’m not used to this,

Not used to being treated with care.

But when I passed the salt,

My fingers didn’t tremble.

The simple act felt real,

A gift given, not taken.
For the first time,

I felt like I wasn’t alone at the table.

And in that quiet moment,

I realized,

This time, I don’t have to give everything away.

Some things,

Like kindness,

Can be shared without fear.
69 · May 7
I Cannot Explain Love
Dirt May 7
It isn’t a recipe you can follow.
It isn’t a list of actions,
a choreographed dance.
Love is the wind through wind chimes,
the sunlight reflecting in eyes.
Love is the soft call of a morning bird,
cold feet and warm hands,
the aroma drifting from a bakery,
a hand on your back, tracing circles.

Love is a jagged stone,
once rough, now smooth.

I cannot explain love,
but I know it when I look in your eyes.
Dirt May 26
I love with all of my heart.
I kiss passionately.
I take spiders outside.
I barbecue for my friends.
I shoot guns.
I drink beer.
I listen to music.

I wander in the woods.
I get lost in my own head.
I stare off into space.
I sleep sparingly.
I enjoy cigarettes.

I work with my hands.
I try to learn new things.
I make mistakes.

I find it hard to give up,
on anything, or anyone.
Dirt Mar 28
The things I would do to simply hear you softly strumming your guitar from the other room would offend god, man, and everything in between.
To catch the moonlight reflecting off your two pieces of sea glass.
To smell the room after you've left your trail of gentle aroma.
To crawl into the bed and be enveloped in a hug by the warmth that you have left.
The things that i would do for an ounce of tenderness.
67 · Apr 27
Po(u)or
Dirt Apr 27
I am not a bottle of shampoo.
Yet I keep watering myself down,
diluting everything that once made me
rich, whole, enough.

I stretch myself thin,
like plastic pulled too far,
translucent, fragile.
I work too much,
as if sacrificing my life could patch the leaks.

I am afraid to take up space.
Afraid that presence is too loud,
that my fullness might offend.
So I pour myself out in teaspoons,
measured, polite, disappearing.

If I keep watering myself down,
there will be nothing left
of the original product,
just a bottle,
and a label full of water.

Branded, but empty.
66 · Mar 19
More.
Dirt Mar 19
More.
More, more, more!

Is it always wrong to long for more?

I know what I want, I know what I need,

It’s right there, within my reach,

Tugging at its sleeve,

My eyes devour it greedily,

Soaking in my desire.
Please, give it to me

I can’t bring myself to take it.
65 · Mar 21
Light me up
Dirt Mar 21
Can you ******* Marlboros still?
Can you feel my hand upon your back?
Is someone else filling your space?
When you're under the covers,
do you long for me as I long for you?

I tend the fire,
stoking it with wood,
but will it consume me?
I crave its warmth,
please, don’t extinguish it.
Hold me beside it.
65 · Mar 20
The God Of The Woods
Dirt Mar 20
The unseen, unheard spirit that guides us

does not linger in the pews of a hollow church,
It doesn't commute through the veins of a five-lane highway.

It doesn't nest in the bones of suburbia

or whisper between the teeth of an office cubicle.
It waits where the earth still breathes.

In the gentle songs of a waking bird,

the hush of leaves surrendering to the soil,

the wind’s low hymn through cathedral redwoods,

the autumn air, cold and sharp.
These are the roots that connect us to our home,

woven into marrow, into memory.
But I tore myself from the earth,

uprooted from my lover, my tribe, my sanctuary in the sleepy woods,

chasing gold that turned to dust in my hands.
I just pray the ground will take me back.
64 · May 17
Pedestal
Dirt May 17
For the wrong lover,
I’ve emptied oceans,
split the earth,
waltzed through flame,
and silenced gods.
So tell me,
why should I kneel
for anything less?
63 · Mar 20
Forward thinking
Dirt Mar 20
I don’t wish to be your keeper,
only to stand beside you, safe in love.
But why did everything shift so suddenly?
Was it really as sudden as it seemed,
or had the change been locked away,
poison pricked, creeping slowly through your veins?

Everything was so bright.
I had a place.
I had a home.
I had a boy I thought was my own.

But am I bound to these chains forever?
Will my past continue to stain my future?
Have I already lost my chance at love?
61 · Mar 13
What feels like me?
Dirt Mar 13
A swirl of blood, rain and sunlight,

Cigarettes smoldering in the woods,

Guns echoing where dinosaurs once roamed,
Beer spilling from broken mugs,

Footprints tattooing the muddy earth,

Where trees stand like silent witnesses.
Calm lakes, a mirror for troubled youth,

Roaring rivers hum a distant tune,

A German shepherd's bark echoes through,

Messy handwriting scrawled on weathered pages,

Anguished cries caught in the wind,

Blue jeans torn, like faded memories,

Toothy grins hiding the truth behind soaked shirts.
Bruised legs, open wounds

Tattered shoes that never stop running.

Half-hearted confessions slip through the cracks,

In the language of partially completed machinery,

Where love, like rust, clings to forgotten gears.
What feels like me?

The ache between the silence and the storm.
Never knowing the truth to the cyclone within.
Running from the past on two broken feet.
I will refuse to cower any longer.
60 · Mar 31
Avô
Dirt Mar 31
I wonder how similar we are.
Did you have the same experiences as me?
Mom always says we are similar in our beliefs.
We don't bend over backwards for anyone.
We believe in the simple things in life.
I wish I got to know you more.
I've been thinking about you a lot, lately.
I wish you could impart your wisdom on me.
I wonder, will I befall the same fate as you?
You worked your whole life away just for it to be snatched away from you as you crossed the finish line.
I wonder if you had regrets about that, but I doubt it.
Six kids and a marriage of 40 years.
I don't know.
I hope you were right and you're sipping on a bud with the angels.

Sempre em nossos corações
59 · Mar 19
Can't shake it
Dirt Mar 19
Her touch was sickly sweet poison,
Formaldehyde, cold and suffocating.

Her fingers left a trail of bad decisions
 a path I still fight to undo.
Her eyes bored into me, hungry for a taste,

and I, unguarded, reluctantly let her consume me.
She lives inside me now,

in the restless need I can’t shake,

in the cravings I never asked for,

in the lust I fight to control.
She led me down this path,

through shadows of hypersexuality,

and I wonder if you feel anything now.

Do you ******* pain,

the part of me you left behind?

I hope you hate yourself,

the way I’ve learned to hate what you made me become.
58 · May 7
Pain
Dirt May 7
I have hurt you, this much is true.
I made you feel each shade of blue,
Midnight, lapis, turquoise, navy,
It breaks my heart I failed you, baby.

The one I swore I’d always shield,
Now lies alone in pain I sealed.
The grass is green, the skies still bright,
But in my chest, a frost takes flight.

To know the ache that haunts your days
Turns all my pride to ash and haze.
It folds me down, it brings me low,
A kneeling soul with nowhere to go.

In the dirt,
The pain,
The hurt,
I’ll rise again, if you’ll allow.
I won’t give up, not then, not now.
I’ll stitch the breaks, I’ll bear the strain,
And never rest
‘till we mend this pain.
Dirt Mar 19
Let the bones from my back turn to dust and fertilize the soil,
Let the ichor of my husk water the moss and ferns,
Let the hair on my head be given to the birds for their nest,
Let them make a home from my hollow skull,
Let the heart, still in my chest, be nourishment for the foxes,
Let it all return, not as it was, but as it is meant to be.
54 · Mar 19
Beginend
Dirt Mar 19
When will enough be enough?
When the seed of doubt has fully bloomed?
When the clock on the wall has struck its last note?
When the thumping of the rain falls silent?
When the light of dawn breaks through the dark?
When the winds of change blow their final breath?
When the weight of silence is lifted from the room?
When the shadows fade and reveal the truth?
When the last step is taken, and the path is known?
When will the end finally meet the beginning?
54 · Mar 13
Tarnish on the soul
Dirt Mar 13
Brought into this world, ****** and afraid,

My face blue, unable to cry,

I took my first breath in silence,

A cry buried in the depths of a heart not yet ready.
I woke up one day, six,
And found the bitter taste of my father's world,

Beer and cigarettes,

Ashen remnants of choices he never took back,

I swore I'd be nothing like him.

They taste gross,

Their sharp edges biting against the innocence I tried to hold.

I fell back asleep,

A sleep that carried me through the years.
I woke up at eleven,

Staring down at the chalk on the ground,

Scraped knees, tear-streaked cheeks,

A bruise on my soul, unseen but aching.

Falling asleep again,

Trying to outrun the weight of the world.
I woke up at fifteen,

Cigarette in one hand, beer in the other,
Guess my old man is still a part of me,

His ghosts clinging to my skin,

Yet I carry them like a burden I never chose.

I fell asleep again,

Hoping I could escape,

But the shadows lingered,

Uninvited, relentless.
I woke up at twenty four,
And the weight had shifted,

I put down the beer, swapped the cigarette for a vape,

A quiet rebellion, small but real.

I’ll fall asleep again,

But not as the same person.

I’ll wake up accomplished,

Surrounded by a loving community of friends and family,

Roots that stretch deeper than the chaos of the past.

I will not let my past become my future,

I will grow beyond what I was,

And the kid who couldn’t cry,

Will one day find their voice.
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