What's With The Shoes?

One step.

One moment.

One heartbeat at a time.

365 x 2

It was a surreal morning. 
Cold outside.
No sound in the car for the first few blocks. 
You know, it's funny when a song starts playing and it cuts through the tone set earlier. 
It's funny when the lyrics weave and wrap themselves around your thoughts and bones. 
Ribbons wrapped, winding and flowing. 
I have this hope.. as an anchor for my soul.. 

This wasn't a project assigned in the office. 
This wasn't navigating a system of convoluted middle management. 
This wasn't a weight on a barbell. 
This wasn't a multiple choice test.
Who knows what level of life in between..

To drive away from home, with a full realization deep-down-inside that you might not ever be back there again, and that in a matter of hours you might be part of the past tense and no longer a living, breathing member of this planet.. well, that's a fascinating feeling.
Go ahead, tip-toe into the shallow end of that daydream pool. 
There was a list of 7 names who my parents should be in touch with.
They only heard back from 6 of them.
Letters were left on my desk. 
You would be surprised to learn who they were for.
Pen and ink. 
My heart on paper. 
Just in case.

Two years ago they strapped my arms out and back. 
Two years ago they sawed open my chest. 
Two years ago they cut out a piece of my heart.
Two years ago I said goodbye to my family.
Two years ago I said hello to them once again.

Today I celebrate the beat of life beating in my chest. 
Today I celebrate hope that served as an anchor for my soul.
Today I celebrate the lessons I have learned about
Stripped down.
To the marrow.
To the bone.
To the individual beat inside my chest.

To relearn. 
To encounter..

To encounter life's weather patterns again.
To encounter simple joys.  
To encounter countless shades of the darkest night.
To encounter the rebirth of what matters.
To encounter the nonsense of the workplace.
To encounter the metabolic challenge of a met-con. 
To encounter the brunt of a barbell's weight.
To encounter the depths of love.
To encounter the depths of pain.


Today I celebrate my second year post-op.
Today I celebrate life.

Every.. day.. Everyday. 
Every day is a new day. 
That reality, is priceless.

Every single day.
Born. Reborn and born again and born again.

The good days. 
The bad.
The red line down my chest serves as a reminder:

I have this hope, as an anchor for my soul.

365 x 2.

Take heart.

Keep going.

Lower Left Piano Songs

Can we just hang out

For a minute
Left side of the ivory
Lower left keys.

No, please..
Can you tell the violin not to play
It's not time
Not yet
The doorknob hasn't even closed
Haven't heard that sound
That second click

It's not set.

It starts
It's the first mile
It's the first sip
It's not a pool of blood
It's the first drip
One, two..
A drop or two on a windshield
A heartbeat or two in the chest
An empty chair in a restaurant
Don't adjust your television
This is not a test.

Please. I'll be fine.
Not yet.

It's the first two turns to close the blinds.
That time, again.
I'll remember you, old friend.
I'll overcome.
I won't forget.

I'm alright.
I'm alright.
I'm alright.

They'll clap when the credits play.

The office was quiet today.

We run the night

Most of the others rest..

We push forward.

Into the night.
Into the dark.

Our senses sharpen.
Our minds escape.

Into the darkness we move.

We don't fight it.

We own it.

We shine.
We are seen.

Each day.

We raise the sun.

We are the gatekeepers for the light.
Watchmen of the morning.

Here's to the dark..

We run the night.

War Paint


Forever just a memory just a memory just a memory, my friend. She's not ordinary. *She's just like me*. Woke up (I woke up again) this morning with the blank mirror facing me. 
Notice read: Blank mirror for blank expressionless customers only. 
No lipstick. No trace of fogged up finger-painting. She and I are one and the same. Did anyone catch what time it was when it started? My nostrils still carry whispers and memories. 
Whispers. Those curious corners of her lips. Vapors soon to disappear until the next night. 
They asked for a map.
Help us *understand*.
Forever just a memory, my friend. Stay here.
I'll stay here, sifting my remains through the ashes. Building a sandcastle with the dust I came from, and to which I'll sift through the hourglass back into.
Every time. 
This time the reflection showed the story. Sweet dreams. Trace the contours of your chest. Find the longitudinal reminder. Reach your hand inside before they awake. We're not open for business until later, much much later today. Reach in between beats.
The warmth is intoxicating. They never mentioned the percussionist for the sirens song. 
It's welcome here.
Reach in. Feel.
There it is. 
Your smile stretches across the room.
There it is.
Hands on.
Feel it.
The sand keeps sifting slipping through.
Time's almost up tonight.
You can't stay.
Forever just a memory, my friend.
As you slowly find your hand releasing.
Pulling back.
Blank mirror.

You slowly drag your fingers, together, across your forehead. 
One finger under each eye. 
War paint.
Blood red.
Glowing brighter.

Let today do what it may.
We'll wear our love on our face.