Good, Bad, and Indifferent: Fuck It No More

The last thing anyone can do is give a man ample time to think; when it occurs, things, events, and words find a way to converge and perfectly link...and it came to this particular truth. The train didn't stop, because I slammed on the brakes. It came to a halt, because the journey became way too much for you to take.

It all makes sense now; it's never been about me, because there's no sign of this man being confused. Sure, it may cross your mind on occasion, but my soul's been the one that's been battered and abused.

Expressing these thoughts won't change a thing; it's not gonna bring those times back. It'll just continue to make me look like a fool, especially since your train seems to be running smooth now, and totally on track. More power to ya, and it's time for me to go ahead, and follow right along. It's time to compose a brand-new verse, and stop singin' the same old song.

7/10/09 @ 5:34 A.M.

Photo by Clifton Henri

Reflections: Fuck It Part Four

...so I saw you today, but it wasn't exactly the way it seems. It wasn't in the physical, yet it also didn't occur in my dreams. You were far away, yet close enough to touch. Never in my wildest days would I have believed a woman could possibly consume my thoughts THIS MUCH.

When's the day gonna come, when the sight of your face doesn't make a brother reflect and go back? Why is it this train of mine can never seem to stay it's course, and ends up running off-track...just at the sight of your mere vision. You know now these words are directed one way, and it's you I've been missin'...and on top of that, I'd be lying to myself for thinking if you wanted to talk that I'd be unreceptive to listen.

Sooner or later, come hell or high water; whether the day is tomorrow, or it's way down farther...the words will come out, and they won't merely be said, they'll be done. At this point, it seems like an eternity for the title of these poems to have some concrete meaning, and to finally ring true, but the day's gonna come when I'm done pinin' over this, and I'll officially be over you.

6/9/08 @ 11:19 P.M.

Photo by Clifton Henri

Love is a Four-Letter Word, But So Is Evil: Fuck It Part Three

The title of this is kinda misleading. The subject itself is not evil, by any means. She's actually a great woman; things just didn't work out. There's no love, but there's a really, really, REALLY strong like. I'm not quite to "charge it to the game" status yet, but I'm gettin' closer to being there everyday. Til then, words will be dug out from deep within, until there's nothing left to say...

Not too sure why the title is as such, other than the fact that it's definitely true. Never woulda thought a feeling would come over like this, due to actions between me and you. People say the best way to get over something, or someone, is to acknowledge its existence, and impact. Problem is, the good can be addressed all day, but it doesn't change the unmistakable fact...that things have changed.

Sure, maybe it can be patched up, but does it really even matter anymore? Maybe words and thoughts can be exchanged, yet things may never be like they were once before. In a sense, that's why something can be good, yet still be bad. Like realizing these words are therapeudic on one hand, but once they run out, the night will still end with me feelin' sad.

There's a part that wants to act like this shit doesn't even matter, like it aint no big deal, but if that part was to take over, there's no way that would be honest or keepin' it real. That's why times like this will continue to be bittersweet; realizing the irony of love and evil finding a way to co-exist, despite the fact this was never how they intended to meet...

6/3/09 @ 12:26 A.M.

Photo by Clifton Henri

Plans: Fuck It Part Two

Some are made well in advance, while others are the last-minute type. They were in place for you, which pretty much contributes to my gripe. They're all dashed for now, with no certain signs of coming back, and part of me has no desire to modify 'em, or even try to put 'em back on track...

Movies at the drive-thru, with food to snack on, and some grown folks beverage to drink; the vision of it was so clear, that there was nothing else for me to think. So much for that, along with others that are far from some seeing the light. Those plans have been placed on the backburner, with no indications of them ever returning to sight..

Plans were in place for some oyster shooters, daquiris, and hurricanes; you know, the ones that can only be bought on Bourbon Street. The ones folks say are so good to ya that they'll knock you right off your feet. Well, just like the others, those plans have been placed to the dark, in the farthest depths of any seeing any type of daylight, with no evidence that leads me to believe a return of them is anywhere in sight...

This is one plan that certainly wasn't made at first; if so, preparations woulda been made, so I wouldn't feel so vulnerable and at my absolute worst. This plan, like the others, is beyond being on-track...and at this rate, there are no signs of it ever coming back..

6/1/09 @ 1:22 A.M.

Photo by Clifton Henri

Fuck It.

Not too sure where it went wrong, and at this point, the desire to figure out is all but dead. Anytime it seems like things are gonna be different, they turn out to be just like the stories that have already been read. Any other time, it woulda been charged to the game, and simply just marked up as a learned lesson. But just when it seems like that revelation and conclusion will come, it leads to an unexpected confession. The fact is...you're missed.

The wound is still fresh, and it'll heal itself over time, even as it leaves a scar. It'll be looked at constantly, treated, and examined with care. And, unlike previous times, this bruise won't have me put my guard or defenses up. I'll end up going all-out, more than ever, even at the expense of my soul being exposed and totally bare...

5/19/09 @ 1:44 A.M.

Photo by Clifton Henri