A Quiet Confidant

I can’t see you, but maybe

you can see me. 

Even if our eyes can’t reach

through this thinly veiled reality that I live in,

I know you’re watching

and waiting patiently for me anyway.

I’m trying to live, and live well.              

To break through these seconds like chains,             

holding me back from freeing my inner self,            

my better self.

I’m trying, really trying, to keep myself in line           

when I know I should live

with a little more purpose,

a little more creation,

and leap out of line like a spring

that cannot be forced down any longer.

With joy and gumption so great that oceans halt

and the sky cries great alligator tears filled with wonder.

I know,

If  you were here you’d usher me down a path with direction.          

But for now, we’re apart.  

Split from each other’s views by a minute film,

but feeling like our minds are blinded by a deep

dark and mysterious expanse of rocky formation.  An expanse

too unforgiving to pass through.  To reach through.

When I do reach through though,

I find that my fingers don’t only catch air.

They brush through the clouds of my view,

and instead they find place in the flesh of another hand. 

Not exactly like mine, but similar enough to let me know

that you are still there.  Still here. 

When my mortal life finds it extent, you’ll be there.

You’ll be waiting for me, like you always have been. 

To continue onto the next step in an eternal experience.

With much more creation and beauty to explore,

then I may expect to see in the halls of a high school full to brim

with confusion like water.  Then flooding over when we lose track of time

and too much stress is poured into our hour glass.


when your glass fills to the top,

when you feel like you’re unraveling at the seams,          

when you find yourself erasing every word you write,

There is someone still there.  Many someones actually.

Waiting for you to meet them

so they can show you how to

clean up the mess,

mend your tired mind,

and be content with who you are and what you create.

You are not, never will be, are incapable of,

being alone.

Those souls behind the glass,

friends from a past life,

they know what you are going through,

even if the living don’t.


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741