Skip to main content

Hold them.

Ever flip a coin hoping to choose
What never had a side?
Ever hope it fell on its side
Not yours or mine, but its.

Its the introspective gamble,
The bet we never made
The thoughts we shattered
Hoping their rebuilt selves would float away.

But instead we find ourselves walking on shards
Hoping to find the worlds' balance
We rebuild in pieces
But the scars never leave us.

Walking taller the worlds would never propitiate.
The past plays thinking it knows best,
The present checks for an all-in future,
But inaction has killed us before.

Fallacious wisdom rises to fail
For the trust of more over better.
We sacrifice the selfless
For the self to have less.

I wish I could make you understand
The direction our hearts dream of.
But with every step
You seem to forget

This was never your game
You gave me the chips
Now please,
let me play.

I'm all in.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Listen closely.

It's game time. The clock is ticking, and you've been sitting around hoping things would get done. Sitting around hoping and dreaming that maybe some day something would fall out of the sky and fall onto you served on a golden platter. You weren't even holding the golden platter -- you were too busy pawning it off for pennies that quickly dwindled because you didn't realize that life was about experiences, not material goods. No one was born to be successful. No one was born to win their awards and to triumph above all. Those people don't exist. Those that were born into money are unfortunate because it is often more difficult for them to realize what struggle is. You were born into those struggles and hurdles, you were born to fight every moment that was going to end your dreams before they even began. The moment you stop fighting, the moment you lose that encouragement, remember that this is all you've got. You have one life, not five. You don't get...
Post a Comment
Read more

Humidity killed the salt shaker. A review of Rosemary Beach and 30A.

What a time to make a new post on my blog. My wife and I are expecting our first child, and we decided on one final trip to the panhandle for our baby moon (the panhandle is a nickname my wife is keen to point out is   absolutely ridiculous given the rest of Florida is not pan-shaped   — even as a Dali painting ). We have been to the panhandle a few times since we have family in Mexico Beach , and we absolutely love that area. We figured we’d treat ourselves to a fancy hotel & spa experience for the time away, and Rosemary Beach ’s The Pearl fit just the bill. On the road down here, we’ve started a tradition of stopping by White Oak Pastures for a good American grass-fed single-estate burger. Single-estate is a joking reference to the book A Bold Return to Giving a Damn , written by the owner of White Oak Pastures, Will Harris , which is, no exaggeration, how we save America. First thing — read the book, and eat some good local meat from animals that have lived a damn go...
Post a Comment
Read more

"I'm not the whisky you want, I'm the water you need." - Rupi Kaur

The light came through, Your peaceful smile, in truth. The surreal was still at bay But I did not know what my words would convey. I heard the silence pedal, I spent the days winning medals Hoping to protect my heart By covering it with metal. I'm trying to explain these walls, The shields and simple fears, I hope they don't reflect you away, But I do not know if you can stay. I buried myself deep within Behind this thick armor My wounds had frozen As I lay there, I burned the roses. A little heat was a sweet reminder Of my burnt past The loving pleasure and pain I ran from what would always remain. So when I glanced at you in disbelief, It was hard to mutter past my walls, But you saw past them with your own, By admitting what I had never known. The vulnerabilities we touch Let us know we are loved They acknowledge our shame And let us play our game With a silly smile, I finally got the courage I finally had the nerve, To yell past my wall...
Post a Comment
Read more