there are always things to worry about
there is never good reason to worry
and yet here i am quivering in my shoes
attempting to control my blood sugar
so my brain chemistry maintains itself
drinking my last beer for days
before my mind allows my body to shut down
panic, fear, more quivering.
there are always things to worry about
there is never good reason to worry
“behold, the LORD’s hand is not shortened
that it cannot save
or his ear dull, that it cannot hear;”
i ask
i fear
i am not heard
there are always things to worry about
there is never good reason to worry

I’ve never been one for mornings

but with you I rise with the sun.

I crawl from the depths of my

heavy wollen blankets

up the trunks of trees that feel

like your soft skin

up to the emerald canopy

so that I can look out

through your green eyes

at the landscape of our

bodies, creating mountains

and rolling hills, between us,

the shallow valley that disappears

as you, still asleep, pull me closer

to your dreamstate.

And as forests grow together,

so that once a boundary is no more,

we slip together back toward darkness

to walk along the forest floor

“I took a sword one time
and I thrust it in to a heart
The heart stopped beating
The blood ran freely
The sword did nothing
and in a matter of seconds
was ready to thrust again

“and sometimes I feel like
you are that sword
and I wonder how you manage
and I wonder how you are allowed
and I tend to keep my distance
as far as hearts go,
I am fond of mine”