The Threat of Isolation (poem)

It's impending,

the darkness,

the silence,

the isolation.

Soon they come,

the whispers,

the voices,

the screams.

Can I save myself

from madness,

from sorrow,

from obsession?

I don't know...

-Zero

Drowning (poem)

I feel my heart-rate rising

as I wait for the fire alarm to stop.

It's nothing,

I know that.

Just some stray smoke,

some oversensitive system.

The people pour out,

a constant stream,

a babbling brook,

like the one at the park.

Just sit down,

close your eyes, breathe.

They swarm back in.

I follow,

sucked into the water.

Breathe,

keep your head up,

it's fine.

Just a coffee

and a bagel.

Easy order.

You got this.

Slow down,

breathe.

Don't spill it,

just stand,

wait.

Shouldn't be long.

Legs weak,

just a bit longer.

What sauce?

None,

give me it quick

while I stand.

Thanks,

now to retreat.

Table for four

alone.

Quiet,

empty.

Shaking,

can't breathe.

Underwater,

gasping for air,

can't move,

can't sit still,

can't breathe,

drowning.

-Zero

A Bus of Guilt (poem)

The burden of my guilt was to

carry a bus filled with those I've wronged

everywhere I wandered,

with forgiveness forever on the horizon,

always just out of reach.

That was my sentence.

But as I wandered I met others,

who could barely find the energy to go on,

whose pasts had left them such great scars

that they had to pull them in a trailer behind them,

who hated their own reflection

simply because it resembled them.

I wanted so badly to help,

but every time I reached a hand out,

the bus on my back would crush me

and the laughter of my sins would roar at me,

forcing me to retreat back

just to save myself.

I knew the burden was fair,

that my endless journey of guilt was just,

that it was exactly what I deserved,

and yet, I felt like dropping it,

putting the bus down to help others,

like letting forgiveness disappear...

Then one day I saw myself,

an old statue of Atlas,

with the world replaced by the bus,

the stone of my body cracking

under the shadowy vehicle

that I had carried so far.

I didn't recognize myself,

so I reached out to help,

only to yell at myself:

“no! don't! I deserve this!”

Our fingers met on the mirror,

and I realized what I had become.

I saw I was destroying myself,

that I was crumbling to dust

carrying the burden of my guilt.

I saw inside the bus on my back,

but only saw faces, pictures,

taped to great weights.

Those I had wronged had moved on,

and as I gazed into the bus,

gradually each one turned into me.

Staring in wonder, I said, “I am sorry”,

and with the last ounces of my strength,

lifted the bus from my shoulders.

When I awoke,

I was sore, but enlightened,

tired, but free.

I stood and gazed at my shades,

and they smiled at me as I turned

to aid those I could not before.

-Zero

Stitched (poem)

Sometimes it's scarier

to stay than to go,

when home is loneliness

and escape is a new start.

But sometimes leaving changes you,

makes you Stitch when he leaves Lilo

to go find his family,

only to be lost alone in the woods.

Because belonging isn't found

like in the Ugly Duckling.

Belonging is created,

like Frankenstein's monster.

It's stitched together

with all the broken parts of ours,

their contradictions apparent and visible,

and yet, harmonious.

It's terrifying to try,

“what if I don't fit?”

“what if they reject me?”

“what if the stitches come apart?”

And leaving is so alluring,

“what if I haven't found the right people?”

“they're out there, I'm sure.”

“that other place will be home.”

In a way we're all Stitch,

lost alone in the woods,

alien to everyone and everything,

inescapably different.

But we can build a family,

sure it may be small,

and it may be broken,

but it's still good, still home.

And that is enough.

-Zero

A Perfect Future (poem)

“You have a perfect future ahead of you,”

she told me, “forget about me.”

That was two years ago,

yet her words still haunt me.

When I met her,

I believed in that perfect future.

I would finish my novel

and publish an instant bestseller.

I would fall in love,

we'd move in together,

have children, a family,

and build ourselves a home.

It would be tranquil,

my only concerns our weekend plans,

cleaning the eavestroughs,

and our daughter's first heartbreak.

I would grow old with her,

watch as our children became adults,

build their own homes,

and bring their children to visit.

I thought I had that ahead of me,

that perfect peaceful future,

but now I know the truth

that none of this may come to pass.

I wish I could have told her what I've learned,

that my future is engulfed in flame,

in the tempest, the fight for our world,

and I would like someone to burn with.

-Zero