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On My Way

Hit me up if you fall

I could make things feel all better and good.

Simple promises by even simpler words

you can pay me back by rebounding,

let’s sit elbows to elbows at dinner

sharing conversations and the food.

It’s always about the food first,

followed by sex and dessert at 3am.

It’s better now that you’re out of my head

to my surprise the nighttime stars shine,

as tragic as the break up was, nothing

feels as good than this right here.

Sitting at the kitchen table connected

to myself thinking about siblings.

To be fair, I have crushingly successful sisters

who are driven to be the pillars

right alongside their brother who writes

the blessing or curse I guess depends

who’s interpreting the words.

Who knows, there might be someone

in a tropical place liking before reading.

Even she swears, the words are helpful,

but no more so, than the sunshine

after a week long downpour.

I wish I could meet everyone

who has been kind enough to read them.

The poems are meant for everyone,

that’s impossible and silly because

my perspective on the world

doesn’t come easy, in particular, describing

the same things in a million different ways.

Maybe I was put here to be placed in a ring

I’m competitive just enough to accept

whatever challenge that I’d

get lost in all the winning.

I assume the victories long before anything

has been formally accepted.

It’s a little too critical to think

we could have a passive passing

in the innocence of moving forward

my voice can easily go away,

but you’re stuck with my words

coincidental or by accident I sit here

watching Koi fish swim, and they were put there

so we could sit here and notice every move.

Just imagine being in that fishbowl,

always having eyes watching the missteps.

I need to hurry and shower, I’m late

she’s not going to understand

if I use the lame excuse

I was writing.


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