The Cold Hole of Regret.

I sit here in a cold bed of wet sweat,
I sit here by the terrace wondering a dead beat.
I pace the halls lost in my thoughts,
I race down that endless tunnel in a sea of drought.

Maybe, if he had not lost his patience.
Maybe, if she had kept that belief.
Maybe, if he had seen through the words of doubt.
Maybe, if she had thought just once before putting them in black and white.

The party has died and everyone's gone home.
Empty glasses and torn wrapping paper lie in ruined Rome.
Sunlight peeps through the drawn shades,
Of the promise and reality from which hope seems to fade.

Everything brings back a memory.
Everything brings back a story.
Nothing makes it feel better.
Nothing comes to him like that unwritten letter.

Therein lies the half-eaten cake icing,
with a photo of him smiling in better times a-coming.
He remembers the oncoming "I told you so's ".
He also remembers the feelings of inconsolable loss.

I wish, I could put my arms around a memory,
But that, my dear friend is not a likely possibility.
I wish, I could put my arms around her.
I wish, I could kiss away all that fear.

As I sit here in front of the screen at the break of dawn. Surrounded by awesomeness and love passed out in various forms. The hole is ever more glaring. Not just because of the physical absence, but the possibility of a vanished hope.

"Happy Birthday.!!" the crows caw, as he lights another one for the next decade..

Faith of a Leaping Kind.

He could hear the gravel crunch under the soles of his favorite sneakers, as he fooled himself into believing he was obtaining a foot-hold. He could hear the wind whistling through the naked emptiness of the surroundings as it chimed a tune. Somewhere far away, he could hear the presence of nothing. But, he couldn't feel it yet.

Off came the favorite sneakers and there they lay discarded like yesterday's skin. Off came the dirty unwashed socks that peeled off with a surety. He swore he heard a Pink-Floyd tribute band drum up the rhythm to one of his favorite tunes. The one about a Diamond and a Crazy Man, the one that shined through bright enough to have a master-piece made for him. Yes, he liked to romanticize himself and his predicaments.

He felt the cool sand seep in, in between his quickly drying feet. The tiny droplet of sweat seemed to trickle down the side of his temple, a cool relief to the irritation of fear. He could feel the abyss ahead. He did not know what lay beyond but folk-lore decreed that you either swam or you sank. In this case, an infinite fall to a not-so-pleasant ending. Morbidity always tickled him, how ironic. 

The fog seemed to envelope the vastness that was his surroundings. He couldn't see the end of the current cliff or the start of the valley but, he knew from within, that it was there. A state of mind had to be achieved and the rest would sort itself out, one way or the other. A state of mind. That is all there is to it..

That is all..

The first step was tentative, the next, not so much, by the third, he had lost all fear as with traction came higher momentum. The weight of the world seemed to slip off his shoulders and the fear of crashing and burning seemed to get lost in the chaos. There was no guarantee of what was going to happen, but, there was the belief. The belief of freedom even if it meant an Icarus like plunge. That must be it. That must be freedom, knowing it was all you. You and nothing else.

The prize was too good to not try. The prize which promise a heaven on earth even at the cost of mortality. The prize was that sneaky smile and that look behind the care-free bangs.  The prize. Yes, that prize, he was ready no matter what or how long.

He couldn't see it, though he knew it was near. Could feel it in his bone-marrow, in his pounding heart, his squinting eyes, every single pore on his skin and every single strand of hair on the back of his neck. It was coming near with each thud of a step, it was coming near and all that was left was that faith, the leaping kind.

It was here. It was now. You are fast. You are focused. You cannot see the end but you know it is there.

now..

Now..

Now.

NOW.!!

and he flew, leaving behind a dust trail and a pair of favorite sneakers for them to hopefully write about someday. Someday.