stop

The words stutter and stop
All I’d wanted to say goes with a pop
My mind blanks
My voice tanks
And then I grasp for anything worth saying
To fill the air that’s now silent
Before the awkwardness settles in
But the need to find something goes begging
And I fail in the long moment
To salvage the stalled situation

The words stutter and stop
My spirt and mood all drop
Why can’t I speak?
Why can’t I think?
I had a point to make just a minute ago
It was biting and worthwhile
At least I thought it was when it was spinning in my head
About truth and lies and what we really know
And walking that extra mile
To be better, expect better, not fall into the habit of being led

The words stutter and stop
Maybe my point was always a flop
Let’s go hide in the sand
That’s my kind of plan
We’ve become too polite for confrontation
Too timid to stand for a cause
Too busy in our own little world of five inch screens…
Or is it that we’re scared of the repercussions
If our view clashes with the social jaws
And we get ripped apart before we can even scream?

The words stutter and stop
Is it too late to start from the top?
Maybe if I do this over
My point will recover
But why should I even bother to try?
Does anyone truly care anymore?
Or are we just hunting likes and hearts and follows?
If I cared more I would likely cry…
And that truth shakes my core.
How can I expect more from others when my words are hollow?

The words stutter and stop.

better

We always have choices
Is a lie
Told to us
Sold to us
To make us feel like the hard decisions
Are made for the right reasons
Because that silver lining
Is often
The only
Highlight
Of
The
Day

We always have choices
Is a lie
Told to us
Sold to us
To keep us from reflecting too deeply
On the unjustness of reality
Because life isn’t fair
And that truth
Always hurts
More
Than
Heals

We always have choices
Is a lie
Told to us
Sold to us
To give us the merest glimpse of hope
Of a world that could be better
Because there has to be
There should be
Something
Better
Than
This

Why Should I Believe

You claim to be omnipresent. You are a liar.

Where were you that night when she cried your name? You were nowhere to be found; at least you weren’t by her side. Where were you?

I hope your alternate selection for protection was a suitable one.

You allowed him to lay hand on the base of her neck and squeeze and utter those words so vile.

She lost her soul that night because of you, not him. She plaintively wailed and begged for your return, but you were off. At best case, you were saving countries and lives; at worst, you were answering a lothario’s prayer for a lay. You couldn’t even return to comfort her after the act. You were just too busy.

If anything positive arose, it was me. She finally closed her tear filled eyes. When she opened them, I appeared and she was happy to relinquish control. I have no soul. I promised to protect her. Unlike you, I kept that promise.

May the breath from your prayer return to your lungs in the form of acid.

May your hand sear as it touches my head, not hers. You can only wish to touch hers, but you can’t. You had your chance. You weren’t there. Why should she believe? Why should I believe?

one last goodbye

I couldn’t believe he was gone.

TV and movies had lied to me.  These things were supposed to happen slowly over time.  I was supposed to get a call that the end was near so I could race to his side, spend a few more minutes with him, share one last laugh, one last story, and tell him I loved him.  I was supposed to be able to say goodbye.

Instead, when the call came, he was already gone.  It wasn’t entirely unexpected because he had been in and out of the hospital, but it still took me by surprise.  I felt cheated.  I felt angry with the world for taking such a great man.  He was one of the reasons they called it the Greatest Generation.

I felt a sense of loss that I had never experienced before.

I was supposed to get to say goodbye, wasn’t I?

Between my school schedule and coordinating with other family members who wanted to attend, the funeral was held a couple weeks later.  When we showed up, dressed in our blacks, heads low, emotions running high, I did a great job of holding back my tears.  I pretended to be stoic, pretended like I was okay.

Before the ceremony my Uncle planned on adding a few finishing touches to my grandfather, putting on his cap and glasses and a few other things to make him seem more like the man he was, and he asked if I wanted to take that opportunity to say goodbye.

I did.  I followed him into the room with the casket.  I was supposed to say goodbye.  It’s what the films and the shows had taught me needed to be done.  TV and movies had lied to me again.

It was one of the greatest mistakes of my life.  All pretense gone, I fled the room with tears running down my cheeks.  Sobbing.  Crushed.  Broken.

I will forever be haunted by the image of my grandpa resting in his casket.  It wasn’t the man I had known, I barely recognized the figure inside, the spark was gone.  I should have stayed away.  I should have left my memories untarnished by that final image.  I should have known that I could say goodbye without having to stand there next to that empty shell.  I should have had faith that he was well aware that I loved him.

I should have known that there was no need to say goodbye because he would live on in my heart and in my thoughts.  He lives there still, and always will.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Written for this week’s Yeah Write Writing Challenge:

And I was one of the Editor’s picks!!