It All Started

It all started with John Irving's hand

the one he lost

the bear on the spinning wheel.

Or was it the blackened thumb?

the boy in the bar

his sincerity

my smile.

It was the memory

it was my words

it was a message

in my inbox

a boy who never lost hope.

It was the Xanax kick

that little blue pill

whole days forgotten.

It was the poem I wrote four years ago

when I wondered

will I ever be real here?

It was the affair

three years ago

the guilty chance

the guilty dance.

It was the lies

the sharp words

the deadness inside.

When he said, "You don't even look like you like this anymore."

When I thought, "When did I? What did I look like yesterday? A year ago?"

And all these questions compete

for my attentions

and all these fears war with my mind.

And it was this person

who saw me swimming in water color madness

and I saw him.

He stands on a branch

on a tree

like me

He stands with uncertainty.

Shielded like I am

from the masses

because no one really cares who we really are

no one asks

no one cares.

My mind like a laser

my mind like a light

and I read him

his story

my life.

It was Irving's hand

it was the blackened thumb

it was the message

it was me

and now whole worlds are being spoken into existence

our worlds unite

we will try.

If our purpose is to create,

here we stand

gambling on this one

risking the security

creating a new life.
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1 Response May 19, 2012

until the trust is broken<br />
I will continue to hope<br />
and believe in me