Self-Fulfilling Prophecies
Collection 1
Renting Love
Puzzle Pieces
Just Once.
Lover's Remorse (Depressive)
Lover's Remorse (Manic)
Renting Love
I roam through aisles, renting love,
Until you’re back in stock.
I comb through genres, A to Z,
Until a stroke of luck.
I loop back every now and then,
To check your empty spot.
I droop my shoulders down again
To see your empty slot.
I float away from that second letter,
To shop around the store.
I gloat about finding something better,
To mute my mental sore.
It’s dawned on me just recently
That you might never be returned.
It’s fond memories just haunting me
That really start to burn.
Act I, Scene I, was so mild mannered.
Act II, Scene II, I was so enamored.
Act III, Scene III, our audience clamored.
Act IV, Scene IV, slammed down with a hammer.
I’m realizing now,
It was you that found me.
In this empty spot,
Right here, Aisle 3.
A row full of tragedies
And unfortunate events.
A row full of stories
I’ve guarded against.
I promise I’ll try
To rewrite frustration
In August I’ll cry
Overdue elation.
Puzzle Pieces
You and I are both puzzle pieces for pictures none alike.
If my picture is of a cozy kitten curled up, your piece lies on an old hound's curious nose.
If your picture is of scintillating sunlight pouring over a peaceful meadow, my piece belongs to the tail of a crescent moon behind wretched storm.
But when you put our pieces together they fit perfectly, each edge tightly sealed.
An inexplicable bond unbreakable.
And even though I know we are not meant to be with one another, exiled to our respective
scenes, I cannot rightfully ignore a perfect fit.
Because how many other pieces out there can make me feel this complete?
Just Once.
I went paddle boarding once.
As I set out on
The Sarasota Bay
The warm sun invited me
Out from under the trees.
I saw amazing things once.
As I moved through the
sea I saw manatees.
The hot sun beckoned me
To lay down, feel the breeze.
I felt the peace and calm once.
As I floated ‘cross
The crystal clear water,
The sun just disappeared.
I held hands with Dest’ny.
I woke up from a dream once.
As I sat up on
The board I realized quickly
I had stranded myself.
Destiny let me go.
I battled with the tide once.
As I spun my board
‘Round one-eighty degrees,
The tide throwing me back,
I paddled toward the shore.
I checked my surroundings once.
As I looked up I
Saw I hadn’t gone anywhere.
I stopped trying and I
Drifted further from home.
I gave up one time. Just once.
As I gave up on
Myself I heard Dest’ny
Offered hope, offered love,
I picked up my paddle.
I gave my everything once.
As I incorrect-
ly gripped that old paddle,
Poorly swinging side-to-side,
I inched closer to home.
I overcame my fear once.
As I coasted in
To shore I realized that
The scorching sun was no
Match for Destiny’s voice.
Lover's Remorse (Depressive)
Aphrodite’s cheek on his shoulder and
The Queen of Hearts in his supple hand.
A fighter, a lover, a dream met fruition.
A friend, a confidant, poison intuition.
Like a handful of sand swept away by the breeze
The man felt so lost in his chronic disease.
Eros the archer had pierced through his shield.
Three years ahead, the man hadn’t healed.
He kept fighting on, he quietly persisted,
He tried his best, but he could not resist it.
The impression Aphrodite left on his shoulder
He needed her back, feeling colder and colder.
Then our friend aged, he got older and older.
Put himself on the market, but he hadn’t yet sold her.
He felt with his lungs and he heard with his heart,
He loved with his brain and it all fell apart.
A flustered mess, both his body and soul.
Bound to break before his story was told.
So I tore out his lungs so he no longer felt
And I cut out his heart so he no longer heard.
Reshuffled the hand and the cards he was dealt
But that bastard could not be denied or deterred.
So I killed him right there, in the spot where he stood.
I slashed him and bashed him and watched him bleed out.
I know somewhere deep down that he understood.
There was no time for a lover so defiant, devout.
Catharsis, Liberation, a weight off my shoulder,
I felt like moving a mountain, pushing a boulder.
Til’ later my new Queen requested a lover.
Now here we are and I can’t say I love her.
The dead man loved, overwhelmed by his feelings.
The rest of me lost like I stand on the ceiling.
He had to die for release from the shackles,
I now fake the flames so the fireplace crackles.
A full life of misery, downtrodden defeat,
Or a partial death, pick the best seat.
I know what I’d do if I had to repeat.
I’d murder again, but this time complete.
Lover's Remorse (Manic)
I sit back and stare from 30,000 feet in the air
I wonder if anyone cares, or if I've got something to share.
Millions of ant-sized people below, I'm really just one of those.
And when I look at my impact I guess that shit really shows.
Who knows?
I imagine my body melting and seeping out the plane window
Creeping like it's in limbo or leaping like into pillows.
I'm weeping like I'm a willow.
Would the fall be fast 'til I came splashing into ground
Would descent be graceful til it all came crashing down?
Would anybody notice, is anyone around?
Am I just another spill in a lonely ghost town?
Already killed myself once and a critical part of me drowned
Resuscitated, years later, I finally came back around.
Emotions have returned and walls are caving in.
I'm just not quite sure that I'm ready to die again.
The pen isn't a remedy, it's just expression from within.
Getting rid of emotions emptied out my life.
It also really numbed the strife of a hopeless and copeless type
Of suffering. A card deck reshuffling, opportunity for recovery.
But then you've gotta ask yourself, you're doing it at what cost?
For me it was love lost and for me it was truth tossed.
So now as I stew, with all of the same emotions
With a small bag of peanuts and 3.4 ounces of lotion
I've gotta decide if it's worth dying once more,
Enduring the same horror and taking another tour.
The alternative feels like it's gotta be to end it all
To make the call, actually do the fantasy fall.
And I know that's a toxic and awful thing to say,
but I feel this way every day and as my mind decays
I'm physically chipping away, so who knows?
So maybe just one more phase of emotionless robot days.
This time I'll set myself ablaze and I'll see the world a haze.
Until maybe something happens and I fall in love with someone new.
And this time maybe by Year Two, I'll be a man renewed
Who's ready to love her too.
I look down at the earth below, and see the plants and trees
That were all just once seeds, which were all once something previous
Evolution so mischievous.
And that is when it clicked for me, the galaxy's majestic history
That told me this was meant to be and prescripted for centuries.
Everything around us is the debris of what once was a massive star.
It collapsed under relentless pressure with ash spread out afar.
What remains from that death is a microscopic speck with all the same weight condensed,
An experience intense with the magic yet to commence.
Base elements of the universe spread from this explosion, a cataclysmic erosion
A beautifully crafted potion for a universe recklessly woven.
The first death breathes life, but it's also a set-up for something critical.
It's pivotal, but only if you want a universe livable.
Beauty and the rest, that's what you get from a second death.
A kilonova explosion that gives purpose to breath.
So if when stars die twice they spew out elements like gold,
Wouldn't the lesson being told be that I've got another hand to fold?
Is it time to die a second time and watch my life change
Or are these words deranged, will the outcome just be the same?
Will I still wrestle with shame, will I hate what I became?
So as I fly in the sky, nibbling on my snack,
Wishing I had her back and that life was still intact,
Contemplating a death of two very different kinds,
I get lost in my mind, thought is the bane of mankind,
And as I lose track of the time,
I think back to how I got here.
Losing my emotions didn't do much to stop fear.
It stopped tears for a few years,
But what good did that do?
I forgot how to love too and to be true.
So maybe I'm not a massive star whose death brings life to planets,
And maybe I won't write Hamlet or get my name etched in granite.
But if there's a third way forward, I certainly don't see it.
I don't know how to be it, I know I can't guarantee it.
I wish I could go back and fix all the mistakes I made.
Instead a vodka lemonade while I play with this here hand grenade.
I swear that I'd take any trade to go back.
But life is more complex and actions have their effects,
And I can't blame her at all for moving onto the next.
So I sit here still perplexed with my options laid out before me.
How do I restore me?
Pilot chimed in, said "Buckle up, it's storming."
I said I know, she used to adore me.
I dreamt the plane got struck and came tumbling out of the sky.
A decision got made and it didn't have to be mine, it was nature giving a sign
On how I was supposed to die. But then I opened my eyes
And I jolted at the abrupt sound as the plane wheels touched ground.
I guess we came gently down.
I get off the plane, still feeling lost as ever.
It's nighttime now and clear skies mark perfect weather.
I look up and see stars that are alive and brightly shining.
I try to smile lightly, as if everything is aligning.
But guilt reminds me of what remains behind me,
And embarrassment's why I don't like to share my writing.
Shame's a bottle full of lightning and I've been struck.
And now I'm stuck, but I wish myself good luck.
And I start walking home, wherever that may be.