I Have …..

I have found cathedrals in dogma –
In judgements
I have labeled my curiosity pointless
I have tried too hard for too long
I have found a false sense of pride in caution –
And with what I say I don’t need
I have searched for keys that were in my pocket
The same way I’ve searched for what I already am
I have tried selling out to worthless ideals
I have gone to sleep with a lot on my mind
But nothing inside it
I have struggled with the difference between empty and consciousness
I have vanished before I really wanted to
I have returned before I really wanted to
I have misunderstood what it means to do what I really wanted to
I have never been drunk
But I have been smacked
By running into things I thought I walked away from
I have never been high
But I have stepped on and over my own tears trying to walk on water for the ungrateful
I have counted sheep
Not while trying to fall asleep
But in the mirror every time I tried to be someone else
I have learned the art of surrender
Now I just don’t know when to fight
I’m trying to figure out if that’s necessarily a bad thing
I have resented resentment to the point of forgetting there are things I just can’t change
And attempting to changes me
I have hid behind cause after cause to mask my sinking self esteem
As if fixing myself wasn’t fixing the world
I have built walls
I have projected into the future
I have manifested things I did not want to happen
I have liked it
I have found honor in the suffering
You never run out of fingers counting the things that can and do go wrong
And there is a weird comfort in putting things in your own way
I have lost things I should have won
I have won things I should have lost
I have felt both has altered my appearance
Which means I’ve paid too much attention to outcome
Otherwise I wouldn’t have noticed either
I have looked up at a plane and finally understood how often I’ve misinterpreted people going somewhere as them acting above me
Like I couldn’t do the same
I have placed too much importance on recognition
I have learned no one supports ideas they’re threatened by until not supporting is a threat to their own
I have learned to forgive and to give for no reason
Because at the end of the day, I, as myself, am really, really not that important
Because what I think I own actually ends up owning me
Because who I think I am actually ends up limiting me
Because the worst thing that can happen is not things turning out differently than I imagined
I have imagined proving that I was here – living – is less of a grandiose beating on the chest
And more of an assured confidence beating inside the chest
I have learned love is so immensely vast and undefined that I’m better off figuring out what it doesn’t look like
I have embraced the fact that plans can be really noisy and monuments can be built by chance encounters
I have learned to listen more and advise less
Because I too have been a drowning lifeguard
And a hungry chef
I’ve finally understood my periodic silence is good for me –
Is actually me listening to myself speak to myself
Most importantly though, I have never known a greater flaw than feeling like you are one

– Danny

Advertisements

No Resolve

I struggle with many things –
Like how first and foremost,
This isn’t a poem.
It’s just honest.
I struggle with my alarm clock
And the fact it has no clue how many people I moved the night before –
Like really moved –
And the fear that it may never find out that that’s what I should be doing every single day.
I struggle coping with how I never receive any encouragement from the people closest to me
Or the people I spent my most formative years with.
I struggle with making it seem like I don’t need this every once in a while.
I struggle with knowing there is a jaded troll reading this right now just waiting for someone else to make a negative, passive aggressive comment so they can like it.
I struggle with how quickly people will tear down your confidence before ever trying to understand the self-hate it took for you to get there
Because they see you alive and well
Not knowing that it’s really a resurrection.
I struggle with how women say they want a confident man
When they don’t even know the source of his confidence
And whether or not it solely relies on his ability to get you to want him.
I struggle with not taking words seriously –
It’s like telling a tree not to take water seriously when it’s trying to grow.
I struggle with how often I use water as a reference when I write.
Freud would say it must be because I feel like I’m drowning.
I struggle with knowing some elitist writer hates my run on sentences
Or how I don’t use cacophony
Or kaleidoscope
Or effervescent.
I struggle with how people can simply jump to the next body after they’re done with you
Not even because I miss them
But because inside it’s hard for me to accept that they may not have to experience the same pain I did.
I struggle with how people can make you feel crazy for not accepting their crazy.
I struggle with not roasting them myself,
And showing the world how much of a shit show they really are
Because sometimes it’s hard to be the bigger person when you’ve always felt below everyone else anyways.
People talk of karma,
But life isn’t fair –
And the truth of the matter is
The most wicked people can still live a supremely blissful life.
I struggle with accepting that.
I don’t struggle with people’s inability to see my beauty;
I struggle with why I even find it necessary that they do.
I struggle with these amazing sunsets I’ve spent alone
With my craft
And the anxiety regarding the possibility that it was for nothing.
I struggle with knowing someone is going to tell me
“It’s never for nothing.”
Just let me vent.
Not everything needs the “be happy” sticker.
I struggle with my sobriety –
The way it leaves me staring at Friday and Saturday nights with no one else around but myself –
And how as I get older, it becomes more and more rare to find a place where that is accepted
Or tolerated.
I struggle with the way people view it,
Or the way people think I view it –
And how I’m not invited places because
“Well, what would he do?”
I struggle with facts
And stats
And reasons
Because I want to imagine.
I want to be surprised.
Nowadays, I want to be surprised all the time.
I struggle with physical compliments –
Because it doesn’t take much effort to tell someone they look nice.
The world is filled with pretty people
And pretty phones that stop working.
I struggle with how much age and time are used as a measure of possibility,
And how much people overestimate experience
As if people can’t wake up one day and tend to what has always been dangling in front of their face
But then will watch The Voice
And root for the same kind of person in their circle that they’re shitting on.
I struggle with how it’s become acceptable to watch a disaster
And scroll past
Or roll eyes at a success.
I struggle with abruptly ending this with no resolve.

– Danny

Someone

Someone hasn’t told you they’re sorry.
Someone hasn’t accepted your apology.
Someone’s always shaking their head at something –
Left and right
But still can’t see both sides.
Maybe they’re missing
Someone.
Someone’s always complaining about space
As if we weren’t already overlapping tombstones in the making.
Maybe they’ve never been touched.
Someone’s always leaving a train station,
A car,
A gym,
An office
After quickly stuffing everything into their closet
Just enough so that when someone else walks by,
They have a place to attribute the mess to.
Maybe they’re unhappy.
Someone is always forgetting now was yesterday’s tomorrow.
Someone’s always leaving,
Someone’s always going back,
Someone’s always staying.
Someone’s got a picture of a person they still miss in their phone.
Someone’s using their phone to hide how much they miss a person.
Someone doesn’t like conflict,
So someone ends up cutting themselves off
When they cut people off.
Someone beautiful can’t help but glance away when they’re looked at because they still don’t see it themselves.
Someone is throwing down at work
And throwing up at home.
Someone is being overthrown.
Someone is too busy learning
That they’ve forgotten what they’ve learned.
Someone is so concerned with defeat,
They forget each loss is statistically one closer to things changing.
Someone wants to win.
Some try with lotto,
With sex,
with bookie,
With Aqueduct Racetrack,
With casino,
With bar,
With 8 hour (identity) shift
With writing.
Someone’s getting their grades –
Mistakes them for degrade(d)
Someone is pressing buttons emotionally.
Someone is pressing buttons communicatively –
Or not so communicatively.
Someone is pressing buttons on video games.
Someone’s job every morning is pressing buttons –
Turning lights on,
Closing elevator doors.
Because buttons seem to do things quickly,
Someone thinks delete is someone.
Misinterprets what delete really means
And how unrealistic delete is.
Someone is carrying a shrine of misery in their heart –
Worshipping what once was
Or will never be again.
Someone has let go of themselves
In attempts to let go.
Someone thinks something is wrong with them just because
Some thing is wrong –
Or right
For once.
What can someone do with all that right(ness)?
Someone forgets how much space lacking can occupy –
How good
And free it could feel to lose.
Someone is always trying to find a way
To find a way.

I have been some of these someones.
I have found myself inside some of these someones.
I have lived amongst some of these someones.

Perhaps the most important thing is making sure that when you die, it is the first time your soul leaves your body,
Which means no matter what kind of someone you are
You’re still someone.

– Danny

Parked

You said relationships are roller coasters.
I agreed.
But you used that as an excuse to throw your hands up –
Like you don’t care.
You make downfall look so fun.
You flaunt pictures of a life you used to always cry to me about.
You know I won’t talk to you,
But if you can get me to react, that’s all the conversation you need.
You not paying me attention is you paying me attention.
I don’t need it though.
Thank you.
Your inconsistency let’s me know how much effort you put into acting okay.
You didn’t necessarily want to get inside my heart anymore.
You just found satisfaction in knowing you were still able to pick the lock.
I’m tired of being someone’s skill.
You want to know about the dreams I chase not because you want to see me attain them, but because my hurdles let you know I’m still struggling.
And no one who lives in a cast wants to be broken alone.
Not wanting me anymore wasn’t enough.
You know how I deeply I feel about things, so you figure as long as I hurt the same way I love, you’ll still benefit from my forever if I never forget you –
Especially if you make me write about you.
But it should be written somewhere –
Don’t enter a food fight with a chef
The same way you don’t break a writer’s heart.
I’ve been here before though,
And I’m more concerned with not forgetting myself.
Your silence doesn’t taunt me –
Or taint me.
I have a PhD in watching people move on right after me.

 

It’s like we’re all used cars –
In and out of each other to get where we’re going.
But I’m going to meet someone one day.
Someone who accepts the occasional E in my dashboard smiles.
Someone who teaches their foot people aren’t gas pedals.
Someone who sees my miles,
Who shows me theirs
Who wants to go everywhere possible
While still being parked.

 

– Danny

Patch Of Grass

My body
Has become burdened by this weight
The weight from the fire escapes I’ve built
For so many trapped people
They make it out alive
They take the structure
And the protection
And the safety
And the confidence
With them
I help
They find moving on easier than I
I am just a building
Outsiders look at me and call me strong,
Monumental
As if big things have an easy time moving around
Whenever anyone else gets close, they always say
They never would have known there was so much hell in there
I say that’s because
I’ve got nothing but these burnt walls now
Maybe, I’m merely a way out
A training ground

I try my hardest to find gratitude in this
Like “at least I’m something”
But I end up feeling like
A little league baseball field
That looks at Yankee Stadium
With envy in it’s eyes
Forgetting that I could have been born
Just another patch of grass
Or even worse

-Danny