We were a small gang of nobodies, attempting to become somebodies.
We all had this in common. We had left relationships and careers. Trying to start again. Attempting to find our footing and start climbing again.
They would pat me on the back with understanding and say to just hang in there. It would be worth it in the end.
Everyone had taken a pay cut just to get in.
I was living on rice and bourbon and coffee.
Sometimes I would be asked if I had a girl. I would smile and say, no.
The older I got the more relaxed I got. I didn’t try to rush things. I didn’t try to force things. I had my drive, my goals, yes.
But if there was a girl, that sometimes wanted to talk or send a beautiful picture, that was fine and in turn, I would send a line of poetry if late at night I found I couldn’t sleep.
And I would sit in bars and listen to conversations. And I understood. Finally.
We all hold on to something. And we all need something. It’s much easier if we accept people where they are at when they meet us. If they need good conversation. Acceptance. Arms to hold them. Or just someone to drink with.
And even those who dismantle and repair beliefs still hold to a certain idea and way of seeing things that they secretly hope, will never be dismantled.
I was about to be 31 and I was finally ok with seeing these things.
And I hoped everything would turn out ok for all of us in the end.
Connections take time. Careers take time. Discipline takes time.
You could be so angry about the things a year took from you, or you could let it go. I looked back over some years I spent angry about politics and realized, those years turn to ash. They become useless.
I chose to simply get up and do my best with whatever days I had left. And no matter what, to try and make my art.
It was cooling off, it was September, I poured my coffee. I thought about how many people we meet and how many people do we really know?
There was a motorcycle that drove between all of us, passing by us on the interstate .
I thought about the rush and the haste to get somewhere, anywhere.
I thought about her eyes. And how beautiful she was. And how rare, truly rare it is. To meet someone that can just pull poetry out of you. I hoped she was happy. Wherever she was.
I was old enough to understand, some years you write everyday and night and some years you write once a month.
For now, I was writing. I was drinking, I was laughing, and I was struggling.
Look around All the ghost in this room Walking these streets Where our hearts used to skip a beat Catching a spark Alone in a cold dark night Trying to find Trying to find The shadow of a love I used to know Hear all the letters I wrote burning under the floor With the heart I cut out Just in time —- I don’t know, how to save myself,my money, my time… —- Oh woman,oh woman, We’ve been working…everyday since the world was reborn… And they’ve been asleep, for so long, now the earth is split in two, those who stayed home and those who got used to the news, and worked anyway, even if it was minimum wage… Now you hold your lip, And all of the struggle I can never forget All of the ghost All of the time… We doubled our words We cautioned our eyes to the light I don’t even know you You don’t even know Oh my love Oh my woman Could you spare My heart just this once… We just spend time Like dollars in a jar But we never touch There’s always pieces Pieces we have to translate Oh my love my love … All the ghosts in this room This town I can’t save myself, my time, my money…my heart… I see the things that I don’t even know… We worked through summer We worked Now we smile We smoke We drink And we are numb To the pain To the rain To our touch To your eyes To your love To your curse To the weight of You holding me Through the night We can’t even hide it The scars and the mood There on the floor All of the darkness It’s here to be bold Let us be bold We are not dead We are complete .