Day: March 30, 2020

misunderstandings

I’m tired
Really fucking tired
of being misunderstood
how do people not see
what I see
when I look in the mirror?
when for the first time
finally
I can look without shame

I don’t love what I see
But I can live with it
and that’s something
I’ve kicked crawled and scratched
just to be
acceptable
presentable
memorable
and of course…
respectable

and to be alive
after being so close to death
in both body and spirit
sick and weary
from trying to be strong
as it collapsed around me
bitter and angry
at the mess my life
my loveless
and unremarkable life
had become

I said to the world
here I am again
do your worst
I know who I am now!
now I’m not so sure

Is it possible that I am not
the man I think I am?

I walk tall so you won’t attack me
I talk clear so that you will hear me
I think of others to forget about me
I thank the universe for saving me
It’s not an act but it is

is it too much to ask
for a little fucking slack
and a chance for a redo
if I don’t show you
the first time
what I’m really made of

I try to be who you want me to be
while I figure out who I am



Too close to home

This is part of an ongoing series called Graveyard Shift. It can be read alone or you can roll back in my archives and start from the beginning.

“You can’t smoke in here, Mike”, Jimmy said. He watched as his partner of 5 years ignored him. Mike was staring ahead, studying the smoke of his cigarette wafting listlessly into the air. A woman nursing a coffee alternately stared at her cup and glared at Mike. Mike casually opened his jacket enough to reveal his badge. The woman returned her gaze to her coffee. “Bully”.
“Fucking Smoke Nazi.” Mike offered.
“Yea, those studies on the harms of second hand smoke, the no smoking signs on the walls, common courtesy. Goebbels is behind all of it.” Jimmy smirked. He knew that egging Mike on right now may go either way but he was just trying to get Mike to talk. He wanted to hear what was going on behind that furrowed brow. And he hated uncomfortable silences.
Mike dropped his cigarette into his coffee and lit another. He could feel the heat of the glare of the woman next to him as she grabbed her pocketbook and stormed angrily out of the cafeteria.
“You know, I don’t think she is the one who drugged your girl. Why are you fucking with strangers?”
“I’m not fucking with strangers, I can fuck with you if you want?”
“Just talk to me, Mike.”
Mike continued to stare straight ahead. Jimmy knew not to push anymore. The girl reminded Mike of Sarah. Mike suddenly spoke.
“If she was raped…so help me God.”
Yup, Jimmy thought. That’s it.