always assume the worst in people,

and their worst will come out.

something i’ve learned: others can help

 

– g.c

 

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Fathers

He pours a store bought frozen meal out of its tray, onto a clean plate. The plate isn’t necessary. It is there to remind him of a home cooked meal, to remind him of a time when someone thought of him enough to make him one, and he did not bare all the burdens. There was a time, when life was a little more than a microwaved meal. It was more than a moment’s rest on a worn couch, awaiting responsibility to call his name. There was a time, when he got kisses and laughter in return for his labor, when he got to delve into his imagination and pretend to be the wondrous tickle monster. The giggles his love stole are now stored away as distant memories. All that is remaining is the memory of a happier life, these memories, buried under the consumption of practicality, responsibility, and hopelessness. He was dragged into a cycle that seemingly begins from nowhere and awaits a seemingly unknowable uncontrollable end.

I, with wondering eyes, watch this creature of habit. My brain is entwined with maybes and whys, and I sense the end is the goal for far too many men.

 

the future

the essence of all my fears

not even the past can amount to the future

not even the countless tears in my tattered heart

i fear what the past will bring to the future

to dissolve the illusory

to make art

that can calm an old yet restless heart

but the difficulty sometimes

i fight in my mind 

 

the future

feels so real

feel it breathing on your achilles heel

weakness creeps

you feel it twisting in your stomach

no,

not butterflies

so heavy it makes the rest of you feel light

small

your mind reeks of it

 

the future doesn’t give you something to hold onto

refuses your desire for strength

whispers to you that you have reached your peak

now you are on your way down

 

the future

the hand that shoves you down the mountain of all your hopes and dreams

pushing you away from the present moment

away from progress 

won’t allow you time to work on yourself

too distressed

completely and ironically obsessed with the future

thinking of the possibility that those dreams are all that they seem

a simple silly dream

 

the future wears you down to the bone

steals you with its slumber

not allowing you to see that it is but a dream

those seemingly catastrophic possibilities only occur in your restless mind

 

your aspirations could be thriving and becoming in the present

but the future has a grip that seemingly won’t slip

but i grabbed onto it

fed it power

maybe it’d be easier

to ease its grip

if i stopped holding onto it

after all i reached for the future

held its hand

nurtured that demon

my demon

the nightmare that is the future

the darkness shading the light that is the present

 

so i guess instead

when the present gets too heated

i will find my comfort and shade under the presence of a tree

not in my mind

or by allowing a dark illusory future to block out the beautiful truth that is the present 

 

the future – g.c.

 

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