Suffering I’ve heard is the journey to happiness

It’s tragically hard to do those things that grant us peace when we are actively suffering however.

To even recognize peace when we are being hammered away at by our issues.

To help arthritis we are supposed to use our hand

To help a sore muscle we are told to move it

To help a broken heart we are told to “get back out there.”

All of these things seem impossible.

To help anxiety we have to stop being afraid of the anxiety.

All of this is a struggle I never wanted to have but then it wouldn’t be a struggle then I guess.

I used to think that my pain was a consequence of who I used to be and what I’ve done. It made it much easier to swallow then. To recognize that I was just a bad person and this is the suffering meant for someone like me.

But I don’t believe in sinning or the sinner or the gods who declare those things any longer.

And my suffering became these attributes that I was terrified of experiencing. My body getting older. My mind slowing down.

My body pleading with me to start to take things slower. To not overdo it. To unclench my shoulders and try to breathe.

My body has been throwing me warning signs for years and I haven’t been listening.

I never really learned how to deal with these things because I wanted to be miserable.

Everything now has become much more scary as I continue to gain things to live for.

What if I am always on the verge of a panic attack? What if I never get better? What if I lose my eyesight or die in a car crash?

Those things are no longer my consequences to actions or relief of a struggled life ending. They are just scary things happening that I don’t want to happen.

I know I’m supposed to work with it. Let the wave hit me. Let it drown me and I will come out victor but it is much easier said then done.

When I was younger and had no idea what panic attacks were I would cry out to God to save me. To forgive me of whatever I had done to be in this much emotional pain.

I have no one to cry out to anymore. No more excuses of perceived healing. It’s just myself now. It’s just me experiencing these things in the moment. And everyone else is just untouched by my sense of unreality.

The rest of the world doesn’t see the panic in my chest.

They can’t help and I wish they could sometimes.

I’m still learning this world of unseen illness.

I’m sure I’ll be here awhile so I might as well try and get comfy.

Clock Tower

It’s crazy how I can drive down the same roads
Walk the same paths to some certain destination
See the same sights and entirely miss others

I’ve lived in the same place for 2 years now
Heard the same trains
The same trucks
Even see some of the same faces in these
Same places

Yet this is a new bench I am sitting on
Staring at this clock tower on the courthouse
I hear it ding every hour of every day
And I have just now noticed how
The octagonal bricks are a light gray and blue
Alternating every 3-4 lines in the structure

It’s very possible this structure will be here
Long after I am gone and I could have gone
My whole life with not even seeing the details
Of this building that was most likely here
Before I was even an idea in creation

It makes me realize how caught up in the big of this life I get and how I miss the facial expressions of the people in the cars that pass by on the road in front of the clock tower that has octagonal bricks alternating from light gray to light blue every 3-4 lines in the structure that has been here long before I was even an idea.

Clock Tower


It looks like wanting to sleep on the couch
When your partner can’t sleep

Breathing with your mouth open
When it’s almost 3 am

Looking beautiful when you feel like you don’t
And pretending you do
And your partner writing poems about these so simple things at 3am to tell everyone that will read about

The beautiful woman sleeping on the couch at 3am who didn’t want to fall asleep because she cared so much about the demons I was fighting that night

But I promise the oyster crackers in the mason jar aren’t all gone
And you can ask me anytime to get some more

I swear I’m fine
And even if I’m not
I’ll always be so you can sleep at night.



We don’t yell at the flowers that don’t bloom in Winter
Or bicker at the trees for shedding their leaves come Fall
We don’t kick at the dirt when our Spring flowers bloom slower than the previous year
Or shout at the sky for the rain to come pouring down in a drought
It’s unnecessary energy given to actions that can’t fix what is currently going on
And I’m realizing that everything has a season
And not everything fully blooms sometimes
I can’t be angry at myself in the winter if I only bloom in the Spring
Or maybe it’s just not my year
I need to give myself the space the same way I am just patient with nature
To nurture the nature within myself
To grow closer to my energy within the trees



You can’t choose what stays or what fades away.

I feel I am not good at words anymore.

I don’t devote myself to word choice

Or experiences

The rythym of silence between the two

I just write what I feel lately
I’m not in love with it anymore because my love
Is more useful elsewhere in my life
And I feel that’s the difference between those
Who “make it” and those who don’t
Some people stay in love with their craft
Or their drug
Or their life
But I have fallen




In love with another human
Who understands my soul even when it doesn’t want to speak
And how could I ever pass up that opportunity
To be understood?

A once in a lifetime chance to entertwine with a life force I never thought in a million years would choose me?

Her sunflower plume is the shelter to my half wilted grass underneath.

She becomes all nutrients I need in times where I can barely feed myself
She is everything humble and kind.

I wouldn’t even be half the man I am today without her pushing me to be the best she knows I can be

This is not really a poem but more to a testament of what love can do to someone who for so many years experienced conditional love pretending to be unconditional. To finally be loved. And to have the time and patience to love back.

I am finally content. I finally have you. Someone I never knew could exist for someone like me. And if we get another year, or 5, or 15, or 30, I will love you every day like it is the last.

Thank you for seeing the soul beneath these souless eyes. Digging deep into these depths and finding the person so broken from life.



I am disappointed in myself
For the nights I miss without you
While I sit with myself
Fighting my own demons you cannot see
Because I know my days with you are numbered
And my nights without you are troublesome

You are the reason I continue to try
Being more than I thought I could ever be
But some of these nights grab me by the throat
And there is no room to breathe

The night is sometimes all I have
For me to still believe I am alive enough to feel

I am disappointed still
That maybe loneliness is the only way for me to feel
Like I amount to anything without you

A constant game of chess against myself
One of these nights I might win
While the sun rises and you awaken with
The smile I am used to seeing



I know someone who is just so excited to not use as many zeroes in a year as the year before. And I think that is as therapuetic as it is beautiful.

Because we are all one less zero in our lives. We have added a +1 to who we believe we are. To believe in what we can achieve. We can prove it to ourselves that we deserve to be our own +1’s to anything we do.



We are made up of moments
Ones where we look up to the stars
And down at our feet
In the backseat of cars holding hands
And alone in dim lit parking lots
Long nights out at bars
And long nights in alone
–trying to ignore the buildup of silence

Ones where we come home
And ones where we leave home
–to never look back
Ones where we run away
And ones where we stay to fight back

All of these choices and the people around them
Make up everything I am on this day
The smile I see when I wake up every morning
The way I spend my time
–the contentedness of not having to find a way to run away
Everything I have and what I am
Derived itself out of snowy nights in parking lots
Arguments in the dark
Watching sunrises after never falling asleep
Too many “social” drinks in the city
And weekend vacations to the country
Just trying to escape all of the moments I created the week before

Moments of sand falling through fingertips on vacation
Or a snowy Saturday morning where I have no plans
Life is much more than what it presents itself as
And these moments we create
–the magic of Christmas long since forgotten
Was forged and created
And the longer I spend learning that my soul
Is not something long since forgotten or broken
The more I understand I can make the magic
I can bring these moments, shape them, create them
For everyone else who needs them
As much as I have needed them before.