Photo Album

Photo Album

I pulled out the old photo albums
but was afraid to open them.
It would be like
tearing the bandage off a fresh wound
and sticking your finger inside.
There would be warmth,
but the pain would be unbearable.
So I leave the bandage
over the wound that should have healed
years ago,
and stare at it from across the room.

It’s been three years,
and still I cannot speak your name.
I give nicknames to those who share it.
They think it is because I hate you.
It is because I still love you.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you,
some days, I think of nothing else.
I have tried to move on,
but there is nowhere for me to go.
The hill where I used to sit,
waiting for your visits,
is gone now.
The cave I called home
is sealed.
I wander the wilderness,
lost and afraid.
Even if you wanted to come home,
you could not find me.

John Mayer sings in the background.
He too, is “Dreaming With a Broken Heart”.
I should turn it off,
but the tears make me feel close to you.
It may seem as though you ruined me.

Not so.

Before You,
I didn’t exist.
With You,
for a moment in time,
I was loved.


I Just Want to go Home,

I Just Want to go Home,

but I don’t know where it is.

Is it under the blue tropical skies of Panama,
where I played as a child?

Is it in mid Michigan, surrounded by farmland,
where I fell in love each new semester?

Is it in warm and sunny San Diego,
where I lived aboard ship and traveled the world?

Is it back again to Michigan
where all my family live, and some have died?

They say home is where the heart is.
I gave her mine so many years ago.

I just want to go home,
but I don’t know where she is.



Alone I walk the world by day,
Alone I walk at night,
No one to call my own,
No one to hold me tight.

No one to share my tears,
No one to share my pain,
No one to hold my hand at death,
No dancing in the rain.

No one to share my joy,
No one to share my fears,
No one to forgive me my mistakes,
No comfort in later years.

Alone I walk the world by day,
Alone I walk at night,
No one to call my own,
No one to hold me tight.


OK, it is not a very good poem. I wrote it years ago, but it is exactly how I feel right now so there you go.

Alone Amid Friends,

conversation all around.
I am distant,
unaware…out of body.

I wonder who I am,
who owns the voices around me.
Faces stare but don’t recognize me,
though they see me every day.

The ghost of who I was going to be
haunts me,
telling me how I have failed.
The mocking smiles confirm my guilt.

Still I must try,
must walk the stage, perform my part.
In the end,
it is all I have.


This is another one where the title is actually the first line of the poem.