The Night Breakers

It’s time for the sparks in our hearts to come out. The night is dark, but we laugh anyway, threading our way through the trees and the dark fields, hiding from cars and any people who might be roaming the night. Heavy backpacks lift us up, since we know what is in them. We reach the right field and frantically begin unloading our spectacular burden. From a rooftop barely visible in the darkening night, a flare lights up. A return flare is fired, and then everything is dark. We come together, shake hands and go to our stations. No words are needed or welcome in this sacred darkness. Suddenly, each of us holds a flame, a small catalyst for the great event to come. As we kneel down and fumble in the twilight, our breaths catch in our throat, and we each pray silently that this gamble will pay off. Sparks begin to fly, hisses break through the blanket of silence, and we all grab our empty packs and run. As explosions break out behind us and the sky is set on fire, we forget our mute taboo and begin to whoop and cheer. Eerie shrieks and brilliant explosions give us company. Sirens explode into life around this previously abandoned farm and how fast you can run is the line between scot free and juvenile record, but we don’t care. We reach the safe house where those who were too scared to try fell behind, and we all climb up to the roof to enjoy the effects of slow-burning fuses and as many fireworks as we could get our hands on. Fists are bumped, and grins are shared freely, as teenage rebellion gone right rips the peaceful night apart. When the show is over, we all climb off the roof and share one last glance before parting. We all have futures, and not all of those will be shared with each other, but the present and the immediate past is something that will always be remembered, a story that we will to all of our children. 

You're Not Listening

Black and white, sepia tones, a straight hair standing out from the mess. Make it so, make it so. All alone, but you’ve never looked away from the mirror. Look away, see me standing here. I’m always here, but your reflection is in front of me. Years of building up resistance, a wall of sound, guarding against the silence. My arms are open, waiting for you. Here I am. My love, my life, I’m here, just look up and see: pause the music, and hear me. You can break through if you try, but my words don’t make it. I’ve already gone as far as I can: why do you not see? All you need to do is reach out and find me, find everyone waiting to help you. I’ve left everything for you, left family, friends, and dreams, to give everything to find and keep you. I’m waiting! I’m here! Please! Just turn around, turn away from the mirror, and I will do the rest. Listen to my whispers, and one day, you will see. One day, you will look away, and fall once again into my arms.

Come Back: I'm Here

No apologies, no explanations. I've almost given up, but selflessness is slowly finding its way to me. I'm here now, so forget this past. Forget I was almost gone. I'm here now. I can help you, now that I have forgotten myself. I will come back to you, away from the false lights and self-centered screen. I'm here. I'm home, and I can't make promises, but I never want to leave again. Please, come back, to our little home under the tree. We left the black space and the chandelier together, and you eventually left after seeing the husk I had become. I'm full now, and ready for you. Come back. I will call you until you turn and see at least one of these bread crumbs through the forest. Come back. I'm here. 

Stay Alive

Meet this midnight world, a big city with small lights cowering from the acetone sky. Houses shut their eyes tight, wishing on a car, cars that turn and fall away behind you. A sky-scraper city turns into a high-rise factory, studded with stars. Little yellow lights make it seem friendlier, and fires burn high in the dark, making safety feel closer. White strips on the road peel away from the tires, lighting up to make a fairy trail to follow. Leave in circles, and find yourself in the same place that you started, but not afraid. The clocks bleed the hours away, quietly singing in the softest way. Brown and green, fading away without any resistance. The bleached moon tucks you away, lulling you into sleep that you deserve. Don’t be afraid, don’t be sharp or cruel or loud. Gentle, quiet, the day giving over to the dusk, softly and lovingly. This chlorine town will leave along with your sleep, in a world that is shallow, in a world that came clean. 

Cream and Gold

Fuzzy blue lights dance across the screen, and I want to dance, too, but instead I get up and walk away. I have more important things to do, things that might set me free. My mirror is my door and as reflection meets me, we shyly say hi before merging into a world that isn’t quite here, isn’t quite there. I want to dance under the sun, watch the desert sky explode into sunset. With the stars in your eyes and the wind in your hair, you are just like me. London fog under the streetlights is the best thing that ever happened to us, and when I see your smile, I smile too, for the first time in forever. We’ll live off of streetlight and reflections, and stolen moments whispering though your door. Play hide and seek, and I will hide in the twilight moments beyond your dreams, and seek you in the sunrise. Fences guide us like old forest trails that have been petrified like the trees, and we can find freedom here. It makes me feel safe, running away with you. We find things to do in our spare time, like breaking all barriers. I think I love you. You know things I thought only I knew, and you make me feel safe, loved, and cozy on rainy days. Numbers line up for us and dance, and here we go, diving into our dreams again. Blue shirts and white pants, barefoot dreams are food for us. Diving into the sea is a little too wet for my taste, but you draw me in and show me how to swim like I never have before. I do love you. I think I will tell you, and word bubbles in the ocean are far too appropriate. Then, the unthinkable happens. I hear the words, see your word bubble. “I love you, too.” We are free here, in the ocean. We found freedom, made it in the cream and rose colored moments that I love, and gilded them for all our lives. We love each other. 

Changes in Quiet

I’m curious. Fascinated, in fact. How does it work? What does this button do? Melt it all down and try to purify it, see what happens. Paint the sky with indigo, and a color I can’t describe, somewhere between a gentle pink and a lavender and plain brown. I’ve always wanted to see a new color, experience delighted confusion over something new, something I’ve never seen before. Wait for me on the side of the road, I’ll come down when I come around the mountain when I come. You think it’s a mistake, don’t you? But look closer and a song forms, unbidden, in your mind, a fun, joyful song. Is it really unbidden? It’s not, right? I called it there. You didn’t know I could do that, but I’m still getting used to change, to strange new things. Young dreams in old hearts, that’s what magic is made of. Old souls are rare, but young souls are incredible. Exploding with color, flavor, delight, laughter over something silly and odd. Peacock feathers in a green setting, lining the wall, carpeting the floor. Do you think I’m silly and odd? If not, please feel free to fill out a form enclosing your final frivolities. Old poems in new ears, a new song by an old voice. Yes, Shenandoah, life really is old here. If you think it’s plaid and boring and unattractive, I won’t be offended, but I’ll have to change my perspective of you. Glasses frame laugh lines, stretching out like an unsuspected diamond. Pretty and playful, fast and deep, some words clash without my meaning to. I didn’t give them permission, but they don’t need it, and they know that. Something new isn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. Oh, trust me, it is exciting, but it’s also solemn and quiet and gradually grows on your awareness, not so fast as to be alarming, but when you can finally focus on it, it’s not new at all, just not old. 

The Inspiring Story of an Amputee

I see a certain man, who has lost an arm and a leg, almost daily.
He is quiet, never asks for help or money, food, anything.
Almost daily, his small shelter is destroyed, and he is compelled to build a new one.
He never gives up, just keeps on going.
One day, I asked him how he does it: never give up, keep on moving, keep on building a new home.
All he did was stare at me, quietly, as always.
Here is his picture.

Happy Halloween!