Part Two of a Poetic Triptych

From whence I came and whence I went
I filled my lungs my heart with sent
So potently adamant,
Spiritually impotent,
Surging with nothing but
This, so inadequate.

Wafting away through porous skin,
Wishing for something more lived in.

I came to conclusions so
Far from my mind’s unknown
Recesses, sediment
Settled on heart’s content
Only to feel distant
Only to see this end

Wafting from hardened skin
Wishing for all life’s sins.

Known but not loved once more.
Loved but not known I pour
Drops, call it eloquent,
It’s all that I have left.
Not enough to repent
Of life’s hard, discontent

Wafting of liquid skin
Wishing for love again.

Apparently I have to blog this first to get it as my picture...Lord help me...I don't think I can do this... 

For Chad...from Megan

Part One of a Poetic Triptych

Nestled in sympathy
Falling apart.
Through distinctions unknown
To a lessening heart.

Through years of digression,
Twenty false starts,
A million poor choices;
Self-destruction, or art?

Reconciled through excess
Knowing no ends,
Rivulets of a life dry
Through self-made faulty ground.

Shunning of all helpful
Words that abound…
Self-sacrifice? Hardly.
More like self-pity, now.

A light might be seen, though.
Visible to
A home at rock bottom
Without much of a view.

A faint silhouette is
Now likened to
A mirage from the gods
That’s too good to be true.