the where ?

...the silence...
...
...the instance
when we accept
the precipice...
...
...the moment
we enter
the void...

...
...
where ?
can we go to
absorb it,
together?

...
where ?
can we go to
taste it,
together?

...
where ?
can we go to
be one with it,
together?
...
...

where is the "the"?..
...

The silence stays with me
until it is tired of me
or maybe this feeling
of morose is
suppose to last longer
than I think it is...
...

...wait!..


shh!

...

Can you hear her?


shh!

...
Can you see her?
...
...
Can you smell her?
...
Can you feel her like I do?
...
...

... ill tempered persuasion ...
... selfish lust ...
... distressful desires ...
... unsettled air ...
... a dry sweat ...
... shaking hands ...
... cold fingers ...
... warm blooded motives ...
..

...the look in her eye...
...
...the look in mine...
...
...the look in a combined
ours...

...

Can we lull one another
just a little while
longer...
or,
if not,
maybe I - you
for
another minute or two
to see where we stand?
...
...or maybe we can lay
on our sides,
faces forward,
as we spin in a
controlled orbit...

...

Okay?..

...

Are you ready?..

...
My heart feels like
an empty plastic bag
being pushed by a
heavy breeze
in the corner
of an abandoned building,
tattered by the
outside elements...
...
...tattered by time...
...
...by the wind,
the rain,
the snow,
the sun,
the cold,
the heat,
the morning dew...
...
...my only friend being
a rusty shopping cart that
has been knocked over
for years on end
and
left for dead.
...

This feeling
makes me...
...
...
...miss her so much...

...

...everything about her...
...

...the silence...
...the void...
...the precipice..
...
...
...the "the"...

...
...the peach fuzz fibers
that attracted my touch
to her
and
made her jump
by the spark
we both created,
like we were wearing
polyester pants
and
wool shirts
and
ragged cotton socks
while jumping together
on a brand new trampoline
in the middle of winter...
...
...
one
touch...
...
...that we
both feel...
...
...together...
...
...then,
it hits me...
...
...like it is
hitting
you now...

...
...

There is a void...

...
where ?
...

...
Just listen...
...

...
there !
...

Can you hear it...
...
...through the silence?

...
Don't lie!..
...
...to yourself,
not me...
...

Why would I
be worried about
my intentions when
yours are so
crystal clear?

...
...

...it's the void, I tell you...
...

...the void...
...

and it's been building
and searching
and stalking
and looking
and plotting
and weaving
and rendering
and buffering
and cutting
and draining
and destroying
and rebuilding
and finding a way to spread
through constant circles
its way to where it is now
and there is nothing we
can do except
hide from it...
...
...ignore it...
...
...let it inside us...
...
...run away from it...
...
...fight it...
...
...lay down in front of the
behind schedule train
or
pass it by like a
homeless person
holding a sign at a stop light,
at an exit,
near a shopping center
that we are headed to with
our plastic cards filled with
endless opportunities...

...

Do we ignore it
or
do we simply stare it down and
admire it for what it is
and
help it...
...
...

...she would have never done that
to me...
...
...
...the silence...

...

...my heart was homeless until
it finally found hers...
...
...
...the void...

...

...attraction can only be
ignored but for so
long until it happens...
...
...
...the precipice...

...
...

God,
I miss her...

...

I miss her so much...
...


Haven't you ever missed something
with your entire being?
...
...
...

where ?
are you going to go
when you finally decide
to feel that emotion
if
you haven't already?

...

You owe it to yourself
to quit lying to yourself
because your time
needs you now
more than ever.
...
...

Remember when you were little
and
the world was full of danger
and
your parents used to say,
"don't wander too far off now!"
...

I do,
the Southern dialect
sticking out like a
spare tire on a new car,
a gentle command
with soft purpose,
a warm biscuit oozing with
melted sharp cheddar cheese.
...
...

Some people say to me,
"seems like yesterday..."
...

I reply,
"seems more like ten...
...twenty...
...thirty years ago."
...
...

How did that yesterday
fly by me so fast?
...

I used to be so young
and
she used to be so fresh
and
we used to be so new
and
undiscovered
and
full of wonder
and
untouched by everything
except one another,
the world - our blank canvas,
it waiting to bathe us
in red strokes,
the error of our ways...
...
...

where ?
are we now,
a frail existence
that is too scared to expect
the most out of this life?

...
...

...it all goes back to her...
...
...it all goes back to the "the".

...
...

...the silence...

...the void...

...the precipice...

...
...

...because I can still smell
where her shampooed head
used to lay on my chest,
her presence stuck to
me like a bad tattoo
inked in fresh lavender...
...

...my skin itches...

...

I drowse in and out
of my waking sleep
and when I finally fall
off my tall building and
head straight for the
concrete below me,
I jolt and catch myself
before I finally hit,
from the place
where ?
I just left off
and I know it wasn't
the pills
because I can still
see them
on my coffee table,
one of them rolling
back and forth...

...
...back and forth...

...
...never stopping...

...
...always rolling...

...
...back and forth...

...
...teasing me like a child
who is reaching for
something he should not
be reaching for and
has just been told,

"NO!"

for the thousandth time
in the span of one hour...
...
...

...and all I have to do
is swallow it...
...
...
...the lies or the truth
or the grey in-between -
not the pills,
then again,
maybe just one
or
two
wouldn't hurt for now...
...
...
...and,
...
...then,
...
... I feel it...
...
...

...the wind...

...

I close my eyes even harder
so I can feel her,
her baptizing me
in invisible waves,
and I feel saved
for just a moment
until I re-open my eyes...
...

where ?
did that come from?

...

"Out of the nothing,"
you reply?
...

Out of the something,
I think.
...

It came from the "the"...
...


I feel incomplete....


...

I need to know...
I want to know...
I am too tired to care but...
...
...I still want to feel it...
...
...I still want to feel her...
...
...the biting sting of her anger
on my sweaty neck...
...
...the fingernails of her hope
running across my stomach...
...
...the wet regret of a dream
I have about her
and tell her about
and we both let it die out
and be merely forgotten...
...
...slowly,
...
...over time,..
...
...us always wondering,
week after week,
month after month,
year after year...
...
...and it prods us
like a tiny pebble caught
inside the sole of our shoe,
a tiny prick we can
never locate...
...
...a piece of popcorn
caught between the
tooth and gum of our
already sore mouth.
...

where ?
did all of this go
and
when
will it all return?

...

...not the pebble
in our shoe...
...
...not the painful
kernel of corn...
,,,
...but the hope?

...

...then it hits me again,
like a sharp beam of
sunlight cutting the clouds
of an overcast day
and I left my sunglasses
at home...
...
...

The precipice
that some of us
are on the verge of...
...
where ?
did it begin?
...

Why
do I chase it?
...

When
will it finally be over?..
...

When
will it ever...
...
...just...
...
...die?

...
...

When
will we ever...
...
...just...
...
...be?

...


Wait!


...

I feel it again...

...

I numbly walk to the side
of the cliff
and
look over the edge
and
down at the salty waves
waterboarding the aged
pinnacles that have been
stuck there for centuries
and I am taken back to
the last time I saw her
soaking in a steamy bath,
...
...darkness,
candles lit...
...
...her breasts covered in
white freshwater foam...
...
...and she hung one of her
toes out of her warm ocean
and wiggled it at me...
...
...and tilted her
head toward me and
opened her eyes...
...
...and looked at me...
...
...and sunk her neck to
the waterline...
...
...then inhaled an honest
breath and lightly blew
the suds around her...
...

...the silence...
...
...the void...
...
...the precipice...
...
...
the "the"
...

...
...her...
...


Why do I feel so peaceful?
...
...

where ?
did this feeling come from?
...
...


I feel like an addict...
...

I want her...
...
...not badly...
...
...but goodly...
...

I want a taste
of it
right now...
...

I want the chalky residue
of her coating the inside
of my mouth like the first
sip of a lukewarm soda
that you just put in the
refrigerator...
...
...fizzing with premature
excitement...
...
...never shaken...
...
...never stirred...
...
...the hiss of a
carbonated release
that we have been
holding in...
...
...the razors sharp edge
cutting lines of a
white powdery drug called
life,
called dreams,
called sex,
called love,
called lust,
called money,
called climax,
called success,
called recognition,
called self sacrifice,
called redemption
called peace...
...
...something we chase
day after day,
us not noticing who
we are until we look
down at a mirror
or forward into the
one that currently
reflects ourself...
...

...never satisfied...
...

...always chasing...
...

...always searching...
...

...always keeping an eye
out for it...
...

...the itch of one more taste...
...

...a chance to feel that
creep of a limited euphoria...
...
...an overdue orgasm...
...
...a simulated ecstasy...

...
...us only taking time to walk
when we are finally
tired of running or are
out of breath...

...

We go back to crawling...
...
...back to the fetal...
...
...back to the womb...
...
...back to the bed...
...
...to the sweat stained sheets...
...
...and all it took was a
sperm and a egg
and a timeline of choices
to feel like this...
...
...to feel creation in
it's greatest form...
...
...one climax
leading to
another
leading to
another
leading to
another
leading to...

...
...a birth...
...

the where ?

...

A good life
then
a bad choice
then
a bad life
then
a good choice
then
a good life
then
a good choice...
...
...us always waiting for
the bad to come back in,
only to be chased away
by the good.

...


I realize both of them
are my friends -
the good and the bad...
...
...yet neither of them compare
to my lover...
...
...to her
and
the way she makes me feel...
...


...then the sound hits me...


...
...
...not that of silence...
...
...but that of the void...
...
...the precipice...
...
...
...the "the"...
...


The static on the
television screen
unnerves me yet draws
in my attention...
...

...the crackle...

...the buzz...

...the white noise...
...

...what is this I am seeing
when the picture
finally returns?
...
...

where ?
did I just go?
...

To the "the"?

...
...
...were you there,
in the "the",
standing with me?
...
...
...pressing your lips against mine?
...
...
...us interlocking hands in
alligator jaw like grips...
...
...us pretending to be
metaphors for as long
as we wanted to be one...
...
...
...a never-ending simile...
...
...
...like a messy kiss in which
a string of saliva keeps me
and you from falling over the
cliffside where we
constantly find ourself...
...
...a slippery rope...
...
...a sticky lasso stretching from
my lips to yours...
...
...from our world to theirs...
...
...always connected,
even now...
...
...like a bungee cord strapped
to the feet of a virgin jumper
who thinks
they are ready for that
weightless feeling
when they finally
let go
and
leap from whatever
height they are at,
and,
when they finally do,
the feeling that takes over
their body as they scream
and plummet downward...
...
...down...
...
...down...
...
...further down...
...
...down some more...
...
...their insides cringing
in a self-induced terror.

...
Let's change that
point of view.
...

...
I remember your sounds...
...
...
Do you remember mine?
...
...

...then,
just as you answer that,
something catches our eye
as we fall into the
question,
together...

...

...the bodies laying
everywhere,
as above us,
wide winged birds
circling the air like
programmed drones...
...

...scavengers...

...
...and we think buzzards
are nasty feathered avians
yet they are just opportunists
of something free that
happened by mere accident...
...
...an accident like you...
...
...an accident like me...
...
...an accident like the us that
we used to be...
...
...the world taking advantage
of us when it wanted to
and we let it do so
as long as we stayed
together
until we were ripped apart
by the biggest drug we
got high off of
day after day...
...


...life...

...

...one another...


...

It's hard for me to find you
when the bodies are
laying out in the open
like a warm summer beach
filled with migrating people,
where the ocean waves
kiss the legs of those that
venture into it,
them laying around like
fresh roadkill basking
on hot, scorched asphalt,
skin reflecting sunlight
as they lay on freshly
bleached towels,
the blinding whiteness
of a previous winter skin
that needs to be cooked
before tasted...
...
...

Summer is for
scavengers...
...
...the heartless...
...
...
...the dreaded humidity
of the now...
...

...of the "the".
...


I remember the sweat...
...
...our work...
...
...the shiny glaze...
...
...me poking a dying fire
internally
to set it ablaze
externally,
me and her -
constantly flickering...

...
...the sounds...
...


the where ?

...

...somebody...
...
...please...

...

I feel the buzz me and you chase,
like an oxycontin that I just
swallowed thirty minutes ago,
it creeping, slowly, like the
first time I saw you
coming towards me...
...
...the way your body knifed
the air...
...

...the silence...

...the void...

...the precipice...

...
I feel that first push
into my bloodstream
as it is broken down,
the rush of a new energy
for another countless
day that has yet to die off
with another meaningful sunset,
another unfiltered sunrise,
another moment for us
to combine in the midnight...
...

...
It makes me start to miss
how you looked in the void,
naked to the light,
clothed in the dark,
the silent whispers in my ear
telling me where to go to next...
...

...our skin,
a roadmap...
...


Do you remember how
I looked in the waning light
of a long day,
moments before the
dusk finally covered us?
...
...
...but then I remember
I did not swallow
the pill,
nor do I have any
in my possession,
so what is this
feeling I'm feeling?
...
...or maybe I did
swallow it?
...
...how would I know
by now?
...
...

...because...
...

...she's a virus...

...
...

...a contagion...

...

I feel like an
unvaccinated balloon,
full of hope,
drifting above a sea of
triple boosted sharp syringes,
everyone wanting to stab
me just because they
chose something I did not,
me holding in as much
air that keeps me afloat
above all the danger while
knowing I must slowly
descend so I can be popped
by the others and become
like them,
against my will,
yet again..
...
...

My parent's words...
...
"Don't wander off
too far now!"
...
...

Are you my drug?

...
...

where ?
are you right now?

...
...

where ?
were you when I
needed you...

...
...

it all goes back to
the "the"?

...

the where?

...

I needed a reason yet
you wanted an excuse
or have we confused the two,
the puppet's nose too long now,
my battery overheating in my lap -
at 5%...

...
Do you have a charger?
...

Can I plug into you
so I can feel the heat?
...

So I can feed myself?
...

So I can drain you -
if you'll let me use you like
you used to use me...
...
...
...like we used to use
each other...
...

...an echo...

...
...

where ?
does
the where ?
begin?

...
...

I understand isolation...

...the silence...

...the void...

...the precipice...
...
...
...the "the"...
...


...her...


...

I appreciate it...
...
...welcome it...
...
...like fresh rice on
an empty belly...

...
...endless peace and quiet...

...
...being entirely alone with
my wandering thoughts...

...
...your wandering eyes...

...
...our wandering hearts...
...
...

where ?
are you right now?

...

...seriously...

...

Think before you answer!
...
...

Have you figured all of this
out yet?


...
...this being yourself?
...


I hear the ceiling fan...
...
...the cars passing by on the road...
...
...then,
nothingness...
...
...
...then,
more
nothingness...
...
...
...the
nothingness
leads to
more
nothingness
leads to
even
more
nothingness...
...
...
...then,
it happens...
...
...
...the inevitable...
...
...

I become the nothingness...

...
...
...and the funny thing is -
I do not mind..
...
...
I allow it...
...


where ?
are you when I need a lap
to put our folded hands into
or to lay my head on
and use as a pillow so
I can rest for a minute or two?
...

...
Do I even matter anymore?
...

...
Do you think you matter anymore?
...
...


The emptiness of my cave
doesn't bother me more than
I probably should let it...
...

...
...all I do is listen to the drip...

...drip...

...drip...

...of the water on the cave wall
while wondering where it
came from and how long it
took to make that certain
sound that fell on my tired ears...

...
...drip...

...drip...

...drip...
...

...and I begin to wonder if the
droplets would have been
lonely without my ears to
catch the sound?
...
...

...then,
I realize the water is
not on the cold, damp wall...

...

...it is on my cheek...

...

where ?
can we go
so we can be alone?

...
...

then, I think -
the world is a
godless demon
and I have so much faith...
so much faith that it would
scare you...
and I wonder if me having
too much faith is my ultimate
weakness,
and I just miss her so, so much,
and sometimes I hate myself

for missing her like I do.
...
...


Just as that thought enters
my brain,
my skin itches...
...

...my ankle burns.
...

...the silence...
...
...the void...
...
...the precipice...
...
...
...the "the"...

...
...one foot in hell,
the other in heaven,
me split like a
fresh watermelon
at a July 4th picnic party,
us celebrating freedom
as fireworks go off above
our heads...
...
...
...fuses lit...
...
...
...the sound...
...
...
...the colors...
...


Sometimes,
the world makes me think
I'm worth more dead
than alive...
...
...
I feel like a Wild West criminal
on a wanted poster,
posse after posse coming
across the ashes of
my previous night's fire,
me always running,
always second guessing,
always looking for my next out
instead of my next in,
me putting full faith in the speed
of my tired, beaten steed,
hoping I get to see one more
desert sunset before they find
me and carry me back into town
the same way I am pictured
on my poster...
...
...

...
...and all I want is you...
...
...like a fresh sip of ice-cubed water...

...
...and all they want me is
one of two ways -
...
...dead or alive...
...

...
... somewhere
a
coyote howls...
...


...then,
it hits me...
...
...again,
...
...again,
...
...again,

...
...

...the silence,
...the void,
...the precipice...
...
...
...the "the"...
...
...

the where ?

...
I miss her smile...
...


where ?
is
the where ?


...
I miss her flavor...
...


When
is
the where ?


...
...me and her listening to music
on a desolate beach at night,
campfire for light,
drinking cheap beer,
hoping we can both get lucky
without getting sandy...
...


What
is
the where ?


...
I miss how she taught me to
appreciate feeling the good
inside my tired soul and the
way her eyes shined when
she smiled or laughed at me.
...


How
is
the where ?


...
How can we shrug it off
like it never happened?
...
...

...the it
being
the where ?

...
...
...such a lonely place to be,
even when there's a crowd
and your best friend is by your side,
and I can still remember what it
sounded like in the month
of October when my fingers
reached around and snuck
inside the back pockets of
her tight denim jeans...
...

We had made it to the place
that so many people try to
find themselves in
but never do...
...
...

the somewhere ?...

...
...

the nowhere ?...

...
...and here I am,
trying to think which one
is worse...
...

...
Nowhere ?
or
Somewhere ?
...

...
..and I wish she was here to tell you
because she'd agree with the
one answer I'm not going to tell you...
...
...

...the silence...
...
...the void...
...
...the precipice...
...
...
...the "the"...

...
Ask yourself and,
maybe,
she will tell you...

...
the where ?
you ask?

...
You should know
by now...
...
...if not,
what was all of this for?..

...

Only one question really
matters to me and you
right now :
...
...just now,
during all of this,
where ?
did your
where?
take you...

...

Are you surprised?

...
...
Why?
...
...

The "the"...

...
A three lettered article
that explains everything...
...

The "the"...

...
...
the where ?
...
...

shh!

...
...

Listen!
...
...

...
...

Can you hear her now?
...
...

PERSONAL PLAYLIST JAM BELOW

CLICK TO LISTEN



site is best viewed on website – not in email form

2 Replies to “the where ?”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: