Bring It Or Lose It

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she strongly suggests
i would rather be alone
than connect to a dimensionless relationship

who needs betrayal
who needs loneliness
who needs lackluster moments

substance is what she craves
someone solidly in her corner
with a strong commitment to her humanity

a partner 100% in her corner
providing passion, support, and love
offering a surprising but genuine commitment

it’s not just about feeling safe
it’s not just about being cared for
and it’s definitely not just about being available for a partner’s whim

side by side
two entities respecting one another
wanting the best for their future and each other

for remember
passion doesn’t linger
it goes where its tempted

Reblogs – Candice Louisa Daquin & Bartholomew Barker

Relationships are daunting, life is hazardous, and living is treacherous, but we’ll never reach the top (succeed) unless we overcome the challenges presented to us. Always try.

Ghosts with Compasses by Candice Louisa Daquin

without opening your mouth

disappointment comes in many languages

spoken and unspoken—

disregard is bilingual, contempt, a relative

when I receive the notice of your death

it will hurt me more than it hurts you

irony that isn’t lost, how we yearn

for people who dismiss us without thought

absence, a permanent weave in our hearts.

I may not possess your critical eye

but mine bleed like a forgotten deity

every time I think of our living and being apart

from each other; the years, vanquished to dust

there is a familial echo of unrequited need, rattling

down the corridors of our broken family —

with every generation; pain multiples and repeats —

another era ignoring the last

I always wanted to stop this poisoned trait

the carved caramel yoke of unnecessary loss

but only succeeded in carrying its legacy on my back.

You won’t quit repeating history, it’s what you do

inculcation affects everyone, even those believing

they march to their own drum, it’s a fallacy—

we’re all beholden to some fragment of the past

even as those puppet strings appear unstrung

yet, every time I stoop to eat a bite

my mouth is already filled with ash

eyes overflowing with wordless regret

it is possible to regret things you didn’t cause—

but somehow they found you anyway

ghosts with compasses; through us, they walk

and away away away they lead

into forests of needles and softening gloom.

I want to find you before its too late

I want to shake you back to love—

live a year, a day, back in your surround

but you cannot lead a horse once it’s startled

if the storm still cracks white overhead

igniting tops of trees aflame with unceasing rage

and you know; no love was ever present

just the motionless grief of—

never being enough.

Stair Step Haiku by Bartholomew Barker

climbing is tiresome
but the effort required
is so worth the view

Moving Backwards

Inspired by Sadje’s What do you see #180

book burning
book banning

there is no difference


there is no difference


there is no difference

where is the utopia for all
not just the paradise for the few
an egregious display of the hunger games 2.0

the powerful watch
as the will of so many is ignored
or shushed into silence

ill-gotten dominance rules
over those seeking comfort
in a world already hard enough

why have we not learned anything from history

 “Let not anyone pacify his conscience by the delusion that he can do no harm if he takes no part, and forms no opinion. Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing. He is not a good man who, without a protest, allows wrong to be committed in his name, and with the means which he helps to supply, because he will not trouble himself to use his mind on the subject.” John Stuart Mill

Reblogs – David Guerrieri & J. Cameron Davis

Relationships, ALL OF THEM, are complicated in some way. If not initially, then something happens to taint them along the way; friends struggle to address what needs addressing. Hopefully, it always comes out with both intact, but not always. Life is that way sometimes.

Another Type of Love by David Guerrieri

I was a handful and
she had very small hands,
handing me love I
couldn’t handle and
it was no secret
we knew each other’s secrets
quietly speaking through tears
and farewell in exchange
for another type of love—
one we both could afford.

The Alaska Option by J. Cameron Davis

Colby and I always talked about the Alaska Option, while we were in rehab.

Both determined to quit killing ourselves with drugs and alcohol. Both tired of hurting our loved ones.

If we ever relapsed, we decided we’d hop a bus to Alaska, get high as a kite, and kill ourselves.

As I boarded the bus, teary eyed and concealing a bottle of vodka and a pipe in my suit pocket, I thought about the Alaska Option.

When I got to the cemetery, I poured the bottle over Colby’s gravestone and smashed the pipe, thinking of what could have been.



Life doing its unintentional thing can hurt. 
I weep, pull myself up and move on.

People’s forced recklessness do harm.
I weep inconsolably,
going deeper into my shell.
Feelings amplified in this echo chamber.
Can’t hear the external anymore.
I hide for a while,

working everything out inside.
And I emerge.

I’ve had more than a few.

Originally posted 2/22/2018 on I Write Her.

Reblogs – Anonymously Hal & Penny Wilson

I realize that our struggles will affect us differently, but perhaps we keep in the back of our minds to not let the darkness color our hope. Of course, we can’t always control our biology by instinct alone. Do whatever it takes to find your peace.

Viridian by Anonymously Hal

I never settled on gray…  
I settled on viridian.  
I settled on a  
romanticized intensity  
seeped in tender  
in hopes to cloak  
the darkness and  
cravings for desolation…

H.O.P.E. by Penny Wilson 

H.O.P.E. = Hold On. Pain Ends.