Show Me a Man

Show me a man, be he short or tall, round or rail-thin,
Show me a man, be he a bedraggled hobo or a powerful executive, 
Show me a man, be he black, white, green, or anything in between,
Show me a man, any man,
and I'll show you someone who will still laugh at fart jokes.

Raw Closure

At first, the shock of loss
left me hollow, void.

I crawled inside myself,
insulated by my grief
and self-doubt and -pity.

It was all I could do to open
my eyes on a given morn.

A mere mention of you
felt like a scab,
newly hardened,
suddenly ripped away.

On the rare occasion of
public appearance,
I viewed the world through
narrowed eyes,
as though squinting into a sunrise.

This narrowed focus cost
more than could be forgiven.
Or so I thought.

Time wore on.
Days turned into weeks,
blurred into months.
Months became a year, then two.

Loss became my chrysalis.

The man I am now
does not recognize the man
I was as being the same self.

I'm not over it.
I've overcome it.
And damn, does it feel good.

Damn

I blew it.
It hits me in the pit of my gut
Where it sits and grinds like a mill stone.
I search your eyes for a glimmer,
Any spark for hope,
But I can't see it...
Because I'm blinded by
Feelings of failure and despair
Or because it's truly gone,
I don't know...

Damn.