Crossroads

These really don't have much art of language in them... I'm not sure if they are really poetry. But they are something, so here they are

Crossroads- Part One.

To a crossroads I have come,
it seems.
To the right,
one I may love,
familiar days,
and all I've hated
and all I've fought for and against.
To the left,
my freedom,
an unknown life,
and the chance to fail
and the chance to lose these chains
and myself.
You stand beside me now,
saying nothing.
For the first time in my existence,
there is total,
encompassing
silence.
It is not what I imagined.
There is no peace within me,
no stillness
to tame my conflicted soul.
This is not what I wanted.
I turn to look at you,
to cling to you,
to ask you:
what is right?
But all at once I realize,
if I go left or I go right,
I will be wrong
and If I go right or I go left,
I will be right.
This is my choice.
I am defining
my own
"right,"
either way that I may go.
Left or right
or wrong,
I do not know,
but I must choose
and I must go.


Crossroads- Part Two.

At this crossroads, I still stand,
conflicted.
I glance to my right,
with the same, dreary landscape
stretching as far as the eye allows.
And to the left,
the road is obscured,
along with any hope
of telling what's to come.
I turn to you once more,
the sadness
in your eyes,
a reflection of my own.
You know where you must go,
to the right,
you have no say.
But I do,
and I cannot follow you there.
The silence
still surrounds us both,
heavy with sadness.
"Goodbye, love,"
a break
in the stillness
as we break
and become two.
This is what I define
as right,
this way that I will go.
Left, now
right or wrong,
I do not know,
but this I choose,
so I must go.

Two related poems...

A Memory

It seems odd
that such a moving moment
stemmed from something as simple,
something as mundane.
as forgetting a hoodie.

But it did.

It seemed wrong
that I was leaving such a perfect place,
filled with such spectacular sights,
so unbelievably dream like
that it had become home.

But I was.

It was odd
that I was entirely alone
in this place where loneliness was a myth,
as were secrets,
as I seeked out my hoodie.

But that didn't change it.

It was wrong
to hear my sobbing slice the silence
in this place where i had laughed so much
and lived so fully,
as I looked at home for the last time.

But I cried anyway.

and said goodbye through blurry eyes.


Remembrance

I can't recall
the sound
of your
laugh.
I can't recall
the gleam
of your
eyes.
I can't recall
the safety
of your
embrace.

but I remember you.

Just another poem...

Kind of a different format, i guess, given that there is a rhyme scheme. It doesn't really resolve or tell any sort of story, it's just kind of a collection of thoughts from different periods of time that have been scribbled in notebooks and the like, some how, ended up here

There's something about rain on window panes,
those angel's tears that never seem to dry.
And shattered glass that's fallen to the floor
screams with godless grace at at the hands of time.
There's something about snow 'neath starry skies
that's like diamonds come and diamonds gone by day
and the rose that's wilting on the counter top
sings with gone-by beauty's ever dreamless voice.