Campfire

So here we are
just you and I;
And of course the endless blanket of stars we find ourselves under
A reflecting moon bouncing off the surface of a nearby lake
and a campfire.

A strong fire once existed.
it was unpredictable in force, and bold in its nature
but as the sun faded behind a nearby mountain range
the flames receded.
and all of the many embers that popped in every direction from atop the fire
grew fewer in number.
until so few were left that you could not help but trace their route
watching them say their final good-bye

and it made me think that we are all embers;
doing our own unique dance
acquainting ourselves with one another
before finally fading out of the picture
and finally,
I was not scared by this.

.,,.

so what did you come here and expect to find
some sort of answer?
Well, I can promise you that I don't have it
and if I did
I wouldn't know what to do with it

about forgiveness

So the general discussion was "that keeping the anger inside after someone kills a family member or someone close" will ultimately cripple you. This was one man's response. Absolutely incredible.

"I know exactly what you mean.

My father was killed on his motorcycle by a reckless, speeding redneck asshole who was also half-stoned on vicoden. I bumped into him walking into the courthouse during some civil testimony lawyer circle jerk crap. He just looked at me and said, "You probably want to kill me, huh? Wish I was dead?"

Now, this is the first time I ever saw his face in real life. On the news, I'd only ever seen this picture of him from a few years before the accident. Young hillbilly in military fatigues standing in front of some barracks in Iraq or whatever.

But at that moment... Jesus. He was only in his early 30's, but the guy looked like a cracked out 65. His eyes were so swollen and so bloodshot... They looked beyond exhausted. This guy I had felt nothing but contempt for, who had caused so much sadness and pain in my life. I had imagined a thousand different scenarios involving my hands and this worthless fucking mongrel's insides. This fucking guy took my father from me. I was only 6 months from being able to sit in a bar with the guy. We were just about to hit that point where I was ready to learn from him, where he could teach me how to be a proper man. Months of this grief and hate and inconsolable rage.

But fuck me. In that moment, seeing him so fucking broken, after all the shit my brother and I talked about doing to this guy, after all the hate and fury we conjured in our deepest moments of suffering and grief... And I looked at this man who was barely hanging onto life, and I knew. I could see it so clearly. The mental anguish from PTSD. The physical pain from the shrapnel or bullets or whatever buried in his shoulder. The soul crushing loneliness of having no one left willing to love him...

I said the only thing I could think to say, "Looks like you're wishing it hard enough for both of us." He grunt-laughed and smirked. And then, noticing that the rest of my family was watching our interaction, immediately ashamed and aware of himself, he stammered to try and apologize. I could hear my aunt, sister, and brother start to rise up in fury. I could see him start to pull in, to let the hate and anger just tear him open. And I started to cry. And I hugged him. And I pulled him so close to me. He smelled so awful. I pulled him in and I said some things I don't remember and he cried and I pushed brother away and we just held each other and wept.

He wrote to me every so often from the hospital he spent the following few years in. He told me about everything he lost. About how he wasted his entire life and never did anything worth a damn. About how he wanted to kill himself the day he hit my father. About how the only thing keeping him from eating a bullet now was his obligation to my dad and me to live as long as he could. No matter what. To either make himself better or suffer until the universe decided to take him.

He drowned in 2010 while ice fishing. A stranger's dog fell through the ice, and he jumped in to save it. Neither of them made it out. There were 6 people at his funeral including the pastor, myself, and my GF at the time. My family and I aren't as close as we once were. I am kind of estranged and ostracized, not for staying in contact with the man who killed my father, but for seeing him and thinking of him as more than just that. I tried to get them to see through that hate, to see what really matters. But they can't let it go. And so I'm stuck missing my father, my family, and the man who took all of it away from me. But it isn't all bad. Not once I realized that missing them is just another way of loving them - And it's the only way I have left"

I often feel as if I'm living in a world with no compassion. But things like this, well that just make me stop and question wether or not my beliefs hold water.

oriGinal song

I don't really know what were fighting about
but I am broken by emotions that have hollowed me out
and it hurts and it burns
when I think of the words I told her

tired and weaker, I'm broken and bruised
you know I'm totally hopeless
completely confused
and it seems you and me won't ever be happy will we?

what we had is over
our run with love is through
so why am I still stuck here missing you?

and don't say you love me when you don't
cause if you look back
I think you'd say that we couldn't last

and don't say you're sorry when your not
cause all the phone calls
the love songs
are in the past

oh it went to fast
but it always does
and what I miss most
is the man I was
back when I had, you

I don't know what happened
I wound up alone
would've lessoned the heartache
if I'd only known
that my time was blown on a girl that was nowhere near me

theres no happy ending, thats just how it goes
you know that life's a roller coaster, it ebs and it flows
and it throws me around
I know I have found my closure

the things you said still haunt me
the things you did do to
so why am I still stuck here missing you you?

and don't say you love me when you don't
cause if you looked back
I'd think you see that we couldn't last

and don't say your sorry not
cause all the phone calls
the love songs are in the past

oh it went to fast
but it always does
and what I miss most
is the man I was
back when I had you

the harmony, we used to make
is trailing out in volumes
now I waste away the time
I used to call you to say I was sorry
cause baby I'm sorry

91.

surface
barely scratched
the demons
clawing away
whispering their false truths into a believing soul
outward appearances
perception might as well be reality
but this is a betrayal
to the actual truth
self-loathing
each moment becoming increasingly heavy
like the words from your parents about an impending divorce
there are two types of hatred
the type that erupts when confronted
and the type that is slow moving
quietly in the background of every happy memory you can conjure
mounting further and further
so when the waters turn red,
don't be surprised if my final gesture is a smile

now

life is good.
take time to smell the roses.
live in the now.

home

home is the trace of her perfume on a silk-sheet bed
a lingering aroma that pails in comparison
but still carries the subtle nuance of her return
It's where cords of long dark hair are found clinging tightly
on clothing several days after the last rendezvous
Home is the laughter and smile
from a pretty girl
whose tempestuous glare beckons
for her back to be fully arched
as sweat covered bodies let out moans in exasperation
The sea of blankets we sail within
remind that the journey we share
is home
for as long as either side chooses it to be