Memories lost

They will remember a shadow when you are gone. A shade of dust and light. Colored by their imagination, they will picture you as they wish. As they need to. I shatter a dream to realize reality, the reality that dreams do not exist. Reality sits like half empty cups of vodka. Forgotten for a moment, in the moment it takes to contemplate loss. Do we watch hope walk out the door only to sigh at the realization she was never ours. Simply another man’s mistress. How sweet the song is when sung through whiskey breath. I sing it now as I close my eyes to slowly die. A whisper in the night.


Seasons Change

Seasons change and love evolves. Sometimes golden fields turn into barren landscapes waiting for snow to cover them to hide their shame. We walk an ever changing path of many seasons, at least we hope as we navigate the current one we are in. Fire falls from the sky and droplets of pain make us realize the moments we live. We appreciate those moments more because of that realization, the knowledge the next step is about to be taken. Whether we liter our path with broken bottles of guilt or puddles of forgotten dreams next to the cigarette butts we contemplated them with, I do not see failure. I see life and a life that resembles ever changing seasons. The past is behind and before me a future. A future I make each day.


You can hate me when I am gone

You can hate me when I am gone.

When my words are as cold and lifeless as my body.

I hope they remain firm under your penetrating gaze.

Can you still trace the lines of my conviction?

To connect the dots created by my train of thought.

Never to allow my echo to die.

Do your words call out in the night?

Can we trace the sound back to your voice?

Back to where it began. Back to where it mattered.

Would I care if my words were misinterpreted?

To meet the needs of another instead of carrying my light on once more.

I would haunt that soul for eternity.

In hope that they will finally come to know the truth.

That those words are mine even in death.

-Opinionated Man

When unicorns die

When unicorns die and dreams fall fiery from the sky. I wonder upon a still moment if the next moment is worth living. But a person cannot live the rest of his life mid stride. I place my foot down one more time and whistle a nameless tune as I look again to the horizon. I begin my journey again.


Literal Suicide

I draw lines of remorse upon my flesh.

The boundary between pleasure and pain is ignored within the nostalgia of the moment.

Nostalgic because each line is a memory already traced.

Do I weep tears of irony at the lack of life from the circle that I live?

As I robotically move from one motion to another, a dancer without passion.

And yet the presence of pain gives birth to a memory of the moment.

A memory I treasure with engraved lines of resolve.

A resolve to write my literal suicide.

-Opinionated Man

Shatter Me

Shatter me with your passion and send my soul into the wind. That I may fly towards another and share your words. Cradle me against the torrent of humanity, the tears of anger and sadness of others wash over me. I close my eyes to the pain of the world for a second, a second just to myself… Laying down the boulders of others, I take up my own cross and begin to climb The Hill. Inadvertently I follow the footsteps of others, but I do not share their trials or their story. The mud from their tears provides a fresh pavement for my own footsteps to leave their impression. A trail of humanity for the next.