To Darwin

grief comes in waves
like ocean holidays
alive, you're not dead
sleeping in someone else's bed
rejection scalds like coals
burning tiny hot heart holes
it's cold like your cold cold nose,
or the Chicago breeze on my toes
i miss you but you don't miss me
something i never would have believed
but damn you all
god damn you all
I have something to say
God help you if you stand in my way

This is My Bridge.

The stones I stood on
I can see them far below
under the roots of the trees of the ideas that I have grown
They are crumbled and broken
But I can still see what they used to be

I want to stand on stones again
I thought I always would
But now I stand on sticks not bricks
they creak and crack
A flimsy bridge swaying as my passage rocks it

If I focus on the sun I can almost believe
My feet are on solid ground
The wind rustling my smiles
carrying butterflies for miles and miles
A stolid staircase to my destiny

But the partially cloudy is always with me
and I can't help but hear the crack of this flimsy bridge
Phil wishes I would just get off and walk with him
But I wanna be on the bridge.
I want to cross it.
I wish it were made of stronger stuff, but still
I need it.

Inside of my belly there is a swirling black bog
howling
indecipherable syllables of encouragement and doubt and woe
bubbling
I lance the boil
Release the steaming, streaming need to know what to do about this damn path I'm on.

But then I must stuff it back in
For this is my bridge
And I am sorry
Because only I can get off of it.
Or not.
But this is my Bridge.
And I know I asked and begged for your help climbing.
and I always will.
But this is my bridge.
And I must stand on it alone.