Was I wrong to cut you off
So many months ago,
To leave it with a simple text
That said “I told you so”?
Was I wrong to drive away
Before you’d made your peace?
Although, when you had been found out,
You didn’t even try.
Sitting in this quiet place,
With buzzing in my ears,
Has given me much clarity;
It’s also raised some fears.
What if I stay all alone
With none to share my joy?
But you were not a man full grown,
Only just a boy.
I imagined things as better
Even when we were at war.
If I ever feel my doubt,
I’ll remember who you are.


The Lost Butterfly

(alternate title  “I’m in a bad mood so, Eff You Butterfly”)

With painted wings of colors bold, dyed in purple, blue and gold.
Transparent petals, light as air
I hardly noticed you were there.

You came to rest upon my hand that morning as I sat to read.
Vexed, I shooed you on your way!
And wanted you back the very same day.

Impulsiveness caused you to fly. I could not find you, though I tried.
And you were lost among the leaves,
And left me on my own to grieve.

originally written on Friday, August 5, 2011 at 2:32am

Blue Dreams

I dream about you frequently,
Of the things I didn’t say,
How I never came to visit you
Once you went away,
About the life we used to live
Before it all went wrong.
I’ve known you almost my whole life.
I’ve loved you all along.
Now you’re coming home real soon,
In only few short weeks.
The dreams have since been turned to fear,
That you’ll want nothing more from me.
I dream about you constantly,
Of the things I never knew.
I’ve failed you terribly my friend.
These dreams are ringed in blue.


If You Could

If you had the chance to
Look ahead into your life
Would you take it?

Would you falter at the burning
Heat of conflict and of strife?
Or would you fake it?

Would you wade the icy waters
Of loneliness and exile?
Or would you shrink away?

Could you brave fierce winds of trial?
Or let the time be whiled;
Saved for another day?

Could you hold your self in love
Knowing when it might end
Or would you hoard it?

I fear that if I knew
What waits around the bend,
Even if it’s blessings
Until the very end,
I would make an idol of
Even these good things,
And turn them into something
They were never meant to be.