cripple

grief chokes out joy in an instant.

count to three and breathe deep.

count to five and blink it back in.

but what's the point of holding in tears?

just give in.

as if grief can be exhaled.

bankrupt

after the grief, the pain, and the seemingly unending drops of tears shed, what if i get tired of singing?

what if my heart stops flowing with a song?

what if the rhythms and melodies of my love song fade away? what then?

what now?

talk

is cheap.

and i am no less guilty of giving my word away cheaply.

someone told me recently to be a man of my word. i used to think that i was. but i'm not.

and now, i think the best way to keep my word is not to give my word anymore.

let

all this thrashing and shaking is loosening my grip.

and maybe it's a good thing.