Game Plan

It all starts with a good night of sleep

A early morning tea

A cold shower

A meowing cat

The sun blinding into the window

Sitting down at the desk

Some people will call it Monday

I call it just another day

Far far away

I bet she knows this isn’t the end of it

I bet she knows there is hope

Somewhere far far away she knows

But for now she waits

Waits for that future knight to come save her

A thought

A man laying in bed

Eyes open

Eyes closed

Thinking about it all

Is he happy?

Is he doing enough?

The answers have to wait

As the eyes are permanently shut for the next 8 hours

Colorful morning

A burst of colors on the plate

An explosion of flavors on the tongue

A perfect combination for a Saturday morning

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2022 I am Back

I went away

I didn’t stay

I am back

Ready to attack

Let’s have a good year

Music to my ear

Stories of the Worries

All the worries

Become so many stories

Confusing at the front

Hope in the back

I lay down

And my heart is down

Adjusting to the new reality

When will I fully feel normal

For now I turn the pages

Looking for a page with words

Emptiness eats me alive

But it’s too cold to dig my grave

Poison Bottles

You break the bottle without a drop of alcohol staining the carpet

Laughs, giggles, smirks, dumb sentence follows your lips

Blood flow increases, my eyes narrow, clinched, ready

An act of a lifetime starts, swooping down to steal my anger

And like always I look the other way

And the next morning when I wake up alone

I ask myself

What’s worse, the fact she breaks wine bottles without a drop,

Or the fact that she’s so far gone?

Either way my carpet isn’t getting destroyed, but I am

Whether I know it or not, slowly, each drop, each sip…

Pondering Loving

Broken Token

Soaking Aching

Crying Trying

Making Timing

Hoping Praying

Giving Everything

Waiting Loving

Drown Town

The rain patters against the window

The wind bringing new sounds to the old house

A lazy sigh echoes through the house

A slow leak in the bedroom roof starts

Footsteps approach the rainy bedroom

He sees a puddle on his bed

The cold wet puddle suffocates the quilt

The quilt she had made for them

Nothing mattered now

The house was old and breaking down to the core

She was told he lost the fire for her

The bed can drown, the house can drown

As the storm grew stronger

He contemplated if he could ever get his house back to normal

Almost done

Looking straight ahead
The ending is approaching
A new beginning