And Then What?

It is gone now
then again
what is gone if nothing has gone so far
or been removed?

What is?
What was?
What happened that was so bad
or harsh that woke us up . . .
or what took place
that took us from there to here.

I have been told
“In the land of the blind
he with one eye is king,”
but let me ask;
what if that eye
sees just as poorly as, say,
the colorblind theories
of vast misconceptions,
you know?

I know there are three sides to stories
and I know that no one is better
or beyond
but in the middle, or somewhere in between
there is truth,
and anything other than truth
is just opinion.

What happened to
the live and let live way of thinking
which has transformed,
obviously
or perhaps we have all
become too cynical,
in which case, —even the skeptics
think it’s fair to say
live and let die.
See?
and so
we die more each day
as in, hopefully
we can die enough
and grow more distant from what was
and not be angry..

It pays to think
that I have to remember
one of my most valuable truths:
wherever you go,
there you are.

Yes . . .
There I was, and here I am now
facing life and hearing more
about consequences,
which never came tome
at least not the way anyone expected . . .
least of all me,
but here I am
facing you, and facing my past regrets
or the people who have something to say.

I am standing before the ghosts of ghosted pasts,
figuratively speaking, of course;
and blindfolded before the firing squads
who arm themselves
with rubber bullets
that aim to make flesh wounds
and infect the world with rumors
and parts of truth.

This is real.
All of this

I can take it though.
Don’t worry.
I’m a big boy, or so I’ve claimed

Do you want truth?
Okay.
Let’s try.

I come here for me
yet, I see you here
every morning
and yes, you have changed
more than once, and your face
and even your name has changed.

There is no denying what happened.
There is no denying the truth
even if the truth is not true to me
—still
I can say anything here
Right?
I can expose anything (and anyone)
right here and right now,
at any given moment
i can blast the someone
or put them on Front Street –
but why?

Why bother?
Why live in “what was”
or why lament
or live with regret?

Why fight anymore
or bicker
and argue . . .
Why?

I am new again
which means that yes; I am starting over
here, now, and with a new version of you.
And yes
I understand this is
a new version of me as well,
but this is still me, nonetheless
and I do not come without complication
or without a past.

No one does.

This is all true,
to which I say, . . . ah
the idea of escape,
and the idea of being somewhere
which is nowhere
or to be someplace
without memory.
I’d live this.
I’d love to wipe away the sins
or clean the slate ad start over without memory
or the need for constant reminders
about our yesterday.

I want the warmth
the sun
the sea
and a series of waves
that wash the shore
of all its sorry regrets.

I am no more or less imperfect
than anyone else here . . .

I am not right for a lot of people
but maybe I am not supposed to be right
for anyone
except for you,
that is.

I don’t know what I would do without you.

I don’t know much . . .
. . . but I know all too much
about being alone
and how it makes you crazy
or say things you wish you hadn’t.

Even the crazy
can say things
that prove a point.

And sure
that’s true too.
Well,
I guess the only question to ask is
am I crazy?

I suppose I am
probably.

Are you?