sometimes i visit the shore,

 where my will crashes into my was.

 i  suppose the possibility exists that you just don’t understand that concept, 

 or perhaps haven’t found desire to travel to that particular destination.

 with the same amount of abandon you choose to deflect; i crave.

 the anticipation more impacting than any supposed drug of choice.

 i watch your eyes as i speak to my conviction. pay close attention to the subtlety of your distance.

 i wonder how it feels to understand boundaries.

 i desperately try to wrap my head around the acceptability of is; 

 my insatiable; never satisfied –

 always picking at the scab of could have been –

 often, drowning in the sea of if…

today i stood – knee deep in the waves – gazing into the setting sun. 

i imagined the sound – unavoidable hiss, as it kissed the relentless sea. 

in that moment – i understood peace.

today i, stood. 

and as the waves pounded against my defense, 

i felt the burden of can’t slip away.

I will admit, in that instant, a shiver of fear found refuge;

attached itself to the sinking buoy of doubt. 

remarkable – 

however –

the deep;

accepting the refuse of regret – returning the surface, still.

today, i stood.

and instead of looking away – 

ashamed of my suppose –

i gazed with wonder past the sea of refrain,

reached out,

unafraid –

embraced the very essence of can.

today i visited the shore,

and found,

me…

if possible –

our only desire –

collect the pieces of could-have-been –

place them in a box.

and if –

by chance –

we find one day a way to turn them into can,

the effort will be more than wasted time –

merely moment of repose as we travel further along our journey.

once again the day winds down –

reminds us of our world forever turning –

and in that moment when light escapes the sky of night –

we marvel in awe at the dissipating fragments –

exhibited so poignantly –

like millions of memories held captive –

stars of cherished was –

surreptitiously etched onto the canvas of our forever…

you passed me on the street.

for a moment our eyes met.

i formed a smile, greeted you.

you turned your head and walked away.

as i continued along my journey,

i debated with myself – what did i do?

what impression did i give that warranted indifference?

confused.

uncertain.

i placed the moment in my box of “after-while” –

consideration for another day.

today i messaged you.

excited to share a “guess-what?”.

busy,

you promised conversation some other time –

another day.

perhaps i read more into your dismissal than i should.

just maybe,

i held on too long to my expectation of your when –

misconstrued your (un)intention.

today –

i waited for you.

anticipated the familiar comfort of your voice.

impatiently counted the minutes until your arrival.

rehearsed with eager enthusiasm my words expressing joy at your return.

but today,

you did not –

return.

and standing here,

commiserating with just myself,

i understood the sadness of alone –

the deafening roar of silence –

the numbing pain –

of your most callous – inconsideration…

…i carefully collected all my precious things –

memories that catered to a status of elevation –

pieces of someones life that fell onto the path of my indiscretion.

all the tangible segments of seasons past.

and as i carried my box of was out of the room of my current situation,

i realized how unnecessary the majority of things really were.

so much emotion.

so much time.

so much care.

accouterments of compassion and unappreciated concern filed away.

useless as friendship undesired.

what do you find holds value at the end of your day?

what thoughts open doors of peaceful reflection as you enter your resource of sleep?

is there ever incidence of regret?

investment into unappreciated accommodation?

commiseration without even essence of reciprocated conviction?

and when you take inventory of all that matters,

are the scales skewed toward misappropriated solidarity?

i suppose you could insist the situation held value.

without pain there can be little to comprehend of its absence.

and without commissioners of insincerity,

how can one ever fully appreciate the honor –

the blessing –

of companion…

concession –

requested.

request –

denied.

what purpose,

castles built on sand?

regardless the intricacy of presentation –

in spite of the deliberation to process of design –

there is no security in the mercurial composition of the foundation.

so too relationships.

temporary collaboration to accommodate (ulterior) motivation.

and we –

us –

so inclined to facilitate application of agenda;

desperate for occurrence of camaraderie –

that we look with eyes that discriminate;

touch with hands that simply choose not to feel.

what then of feelings left unattached?

when connection is lost,

what becomes of unopened gifts of compassion?

i understand reluctance to acceptance.

i commiserate with feelings of rejection.

i even sympathize with opposition to intentional demeanor of indifference.

what i cannot own,

however –

mannerisms of predetermined manipulation.

hands outstretched –

withdrawn;

turned oh so quickly into fists.

and from hearts unfilled with good intention,

transparent presentation of (factitious) desired compatibility –

masking calculated and cleverly concealed agenda of incorrigible acts of fratricide…

we say –

actually insist.

throw suppositions of know into arenas of disallowed.

our words –

intended bandage for wounds suffered without reproach,

from hands presented as gesture of Christian accommodation.

and while we stand safe –

conveniently clear of any ricochet of insinuation –

the animosity we preach to disallow collects in puddles –

swallows our hope –

quick as ripples of faith on a placid sea of indifference.

what then?

when winds of chaos blow and there is no refuge from the storm?

while liturgies can be heard above the roar of the waves –

still we shiver in the cold –

clinging to the rope of inability –

drifting without option of release in our ocean of discontent.

while there –

just beyond the breakers –

calm,

wave-less sea.

peace we can only imagine –

as we’re dashed without mercy on the shore of doubt –

broken like shells –

empty of all but echoes of prayers –

unanswered –

inconspicuously –

unheard…

un-compromised –

no one listening.

irrelevant – the need to be heard.

sometimes we just cannot contain the emotion –

corral the words back to their silent place –

deep inside.

and so we sing…

sometimes –

the song –

becomes our anthem.

rebellion shouted from lungs trapped in a shell of perceived should-have-been –

could-have-been.

the escape becomes our escape.

the release –

our freedom –

sometimes…

and then –

sometimes –

we no longer hear the music –

and there –

facing the silence –

when we feel we’ve nothing left to say.

before we bow –

final curtain call –

we close our eyes –

and sometimes we just – pray…

caught apprehensively cowering beneath the weight of mistrust.

how can it be we believe in what we cannot see,

yet question intentions of those positioned to hold our hands?

oh to find exit from this life without the consequence of death.

to move from sharing shadows with our pain,

to standing UN-encumbered in the sun!

today i pause –

take refuge from my should.

today –

i pause –

weary traveler longing for the solace of home.

today i –

pause –

just long enough to catch my breath –

and as i close my eyes,

i dream of life beyond the fringe of discontent.

sorrow –

we entertain.

unaware we’ve closed the door to companion of contentment,

honored reservation with insecure –

and from this room,

no promenade of prohibition.

bound we remain,

by chains of (self-perceived) incorrigible inadequacy…

we speak to the disenchanted.

stand on our soapboxes of pious indignation –

lash out at the arena’s of unconcerned –

wear watercolor hearts on our sleeves.

in front of crowds gathered to deter allegiance –

we throw arrows of solidarity –

our arsenal of antagonism unending.

words of condemnation; we choose.

yet fail to dislodge thumbs of impudence from holes in dams of manufactured religion.

religion.

all inclusive blanket of suppose.

folded up neatly and placed high on shelves of available.

easily out of reach –

out of sight.

we speak –

but never seem to question the acceptance of those that hear.

irrelevant –

consensual commiseration.

in place of conviction –

we exhibit masks of implied.

utter memorized oracles of divine affiliation.

all the while –

completely unaware of the absence of acceptance to our invitations of believe…