The thing about 
the bottom is 
that you’ll either 
find your way 
up or out 
or farther in
the bottom moves
in the direction 
that you take 

When and if 
it ever does 
the years and 
the many miles 
that once had 
seemed so long 
just disappear pop
like some bubble 
that you hardly 
remember at all 
this is what 
success feels like 
just a pop
and a sprinkling 
of those tears
that for years 
seemed too near

A sharp cleaver 
I do wield 
ready to hack
away freeing myself 
from all suffering 
bleed I will 
miss I must 
but disease grows 
when it’s ignored 
live I shall 
sometimes without limb
oftentimes because love 

I wonder if
I’ll ever again 
what you ask 
so many things 
oh so many 
smell the seashore 
touch wet grass 
taste sweet strawberries 
whistle a tune 
and even this 
I finally admit 
but you can 
you reassure me 
not like this 
the first time 

Those four words 
just those four 
keep ringing like 
some unanswered call 
like some stone 
tossed into a 
pond its ring
starting slightly and 
then growing until 
it finally slaps 
at my feet 
those four words 
once spoken angrily 
and in hurt
never stop ringing