Coat Hangers and Gun Slings

As sure as I feel them in my fingers
As sure as the pressure on my shoulder
As sure as seasons come and go
Like they do
Like they did

Through tree branches and rope swings
We grew strong and so did the branches

One day
One tree
A branch not quite yet grown strong
Our weight too much
The four hands and four feet
Like four tons of bricks

Even though we were only ten we still had some weight
Too much weight

The branch broke
He fell as I clung to the trunk
Separated by ten feet
Broken branches
Religion
Motives
Goals
On and on

We were two different boys
Too different boys

Eventually tracks split
People part ways as do trains and cars
All it took was a simple branch snap

I could feel the pain
Like the hangers in my fingers
Like the weapon on my shoulder

THE LOST HERO

The long hair clouded others vision, not his
Every day the walk
Thought he "what of this day?"
But thinking wasn't for him
Reserved for teachers
Calculators
Computers

A low riding backpack, his scarlet letter
A pariah
Unfortunately the train passed him by
Left with only the 3:00 departure he tired to make do

The day he found 5 lost iPhones and returned them to the school front office
"Punk kid must have stolen them"
Trading water bottles with a neighbor so they would have more
They already drank most of theirs
Stealing they called it
That wasn't his water bottle
He never "stole" again

Cutting his hair helped his peers see better
The sun however blinded him
But dry and cracked eyes are far better than the slimy names stuck to his back

He grew
Taller
Faster
Older
He grew tired

Slithering to the souls of his feet, the grime weighted him down
Walking became a chore

Stopping him in front of two beams
The sticky words had won
Tread marks tattooed his back and face
His body looked tired
Rain droplets  gathered to carry his pitiful corpse
Washed him down the gutter
Gone

Peers much later question his absence
Only because suddenly their lunch tables were dirtier

"I heard he moved"
"I heard he transferred schools"
No one heard him
Never compensated
Admirated
Instead relocated

The Lost Hero sleeps soundly in the sewage below
Not even the sludge dares cover the subtle smile he died with
He always carried
Not even the sludge

She'll Always Be Mine

I dont know what's harder to swallow
My pride
Or this handful of pills

It's hard to admit to those things
I just can't do
There's never been a field I can't plow
A mountain I can't climb
A river I can't cross

This task is foreign to me
I've never had to deal with something like this
Her body growing smaller and smaller
Bones protruding
Nothing sounding appetizing because food is bad
If I could kill the world for saying that I would
Without hesitation

Stairs become a rigorous feat
Feat feet
Tired feet
From walking, running, supporting
There is something quite different from plowing fields and cultivating minds
Training them
Making them believe they are strong
Beautiful
Kind
Everything she is

She still is all those things
Just a little smaller
Lighter
Weaker
She's still mine though
And I wouldn't trade her for any team of horses

A Game of Hide and Seek

Love drives a big black car
Residing alone in the back seat I sit still
Each row satisfies two lovers with room enough for them to sit in each other's arms
My legs filled with envy from the comfort seen in front
Eyes turned aside to avoid seeing that which I desire
But my ears provide imagery much more powerful

Love makes its way into the lives of everyone
Somehow there is a burier laying in front of me
This invisible wall stronger then the curtains of iron
It seems to have broken Cupid's arrows
Not that he has that great of aim anyways

Whatever definition of love you may have it hasn't found me
Maybe in this game of hide and seek my spot proves too good
Too excluded
Too dark
I have ventured off afar into a ravine that love would never think to look in
Perhaps if I uncover my eyes I'll see what they do
A valentines day worth being awake for
But sleeping is comfortable

I'll keep my eyes open but never my heart
I can always live without my sight
But take away my heart and I go cold
If love is of the eyes one day I'll see it
But the deeper love people talk about feeling in their hearts I'll never have
For if I take out the stitches in my ventricles to let in gentle hands
Even their soft touch will leave me pale
Lifless on the floor
Love can kill you or love can save you
I guess I'll never know what it has in store for me
I'm staying right here
In this perfect hiding spot
Waiting for love to come and poke me
Exclaiming it has finally found me
Found ME

I worry about my shoelaces

The cup slides across the marbled counter top
The screeches resonate in my ears only
Resembling that of fingers on a chalk board
These pitchy screams miniscule
I worry about far greater things

Those who are curious
Curious towards the origination of their next metal
Curious about life and it's end
Curious about things irrelevant to out age

We grow fast
Necessity demands it

I used to play
Now I drive
When I used to reside in the fields
Never thinking I would be contained to a desk

My shoelaces told me the other day
They had seen too much of the gas pedal
Not enough grass
Not enough dirt
Not enough sun

Their absence reminds of more joyous times
Shoes now flop and flail
Useless
I wonder how they are
Are they happier than I

Maybe they have found anther pair of shoes

The Daemon Within

I find myself consumed in the midst of that which I am not
Or at least those things I don't want to be

When I yawn I cry
Or maybe I cry because I yawn
Because I am tired
It's hard to cage the daemon within me when it keeps cutting away at my stomach lining

I wish I could walk across the nail beds in front of me
But the taunting spires sneer
Acknowledging my in capabilities
I am human

I wish you and I could run away
My stomach and the daemon inside snicker
They know as well as I do
Return is inevitable
I am human

I wish for many things
Most of which I can't attain
A lingering but sturdy barricade proves unsurpassable
I am human

I am what I am not
Coming to know myself through those experiences I haven't had
I want to have
Determining my composition by that which I lack
I lack so many things

A black cat crosses the street and pauses
Inquiring towards my solemn stare
I reply to him
Melancholy and weary
The cause of this self pity is simple 

I  am  human

Let's Write

We are all scared
Scared of others
Of ourselves
We are scared of what we don't know
But if we don't know it, what's to be scared of?

We all want the perfect post
The most comments
The top five debut
How many of us will actually get it?
Not enough
Not nearly enough

"But man's capacities have never been measured; not are we to judge of what he can do by any precedents, so little has been tried"

Let's all try
Let's not measure, but build
Let's write

I Don't Want to be Grey

The soles of my shoes fade fast
Colour fades faster
When I dress my hallow frame
Grey is all my skin emulates
My bones protrude from my tired skin
Providing the only variance of value
In the monotonous, melancholy, weak skin of mine

Often I desire a sudden sickness to sweep me away
The green skin that would accompany me
A break from this old grey
Something new to entertain my eyes
I'd dance as I was reminded of the color of the lush grass I once played in

Colour, a commodity most fail to recognize
My problem is I have forgotten what it looks like
It's not that I fail to try and see it
I simply am incapable

Colour, an old friend
Long since passed on
One day I'd like to shake his firm, welcoming hand again

I fear if I were to attain colour again
I'd lose it just as quickly
Crayons retain their colour quite nicely
But I am not wax
I am pale
I am frail
I am grey, although I don't want to be