when the tides roll in

this collection is dedicated to those who are and will always be my forever, to those who have made me who i am today, to those who have never given up on me to those whom i love – and to the woman who gave me my poetic genes and watches me from above; “I know an adventure awaits me where romance and riches abound; I’m ripe for excitement and love and delightment, I’ll dance without touching the ground!” -Helen Pardee table of contents I. the sailor « man « i stand here « standstill « part one « inside « inner compass « the curse « i know « protecting you « scare « what i miss « silent « i’m afraid « the lone ranger « her piece of pottery « recovery « hurting me « forgiving « knocking « the lion « accepting « finally free « part of me « i am not « lost beings « the sailor « dearest « now « a fragment of my mind « two a.m. « at the time « gladiators FREE PREVIEW « her path II. the ship « surgeon « to think « lies « part two « to define a fall « forever and always « dreaming « the wind « splatter « promises « secret « forever mine « to hold you « texting « for you « folktales and fairytales « goodbye « where is my key? « fright « fading away « driving « change « erasing you « why? « tick tock « back in the day « finding him « learning « heart on my sleeve « my light « a blithering beacon « fine mist FREE PREVIEW III. the sea « romance novels have it wrong « 446 red river drive « fear « part three « clouds « leave your desk « physics « growing up « young love « someone new « the idea « losing you « who is the childhood monster? « hate « channel 20 « sailing the sea of anxiety « catastrophe « Death « stop and stare « you are not the one for me « a letter to a pageant queen « falling « the feeling « waiting « how many more times « ruling the world « you can’t see « a world of shadows « world « the thing « we are the next my friend, before we begin, i must ask you – have you ever heard the sea breathe? left side right side (text in line with the other introduction text) the sailor like the brightest constellation guiding you by night, you are unique. man man has always known the risks of falling, but we dance along the cliff’s edge anyways. man has always known the risks of dying, yet we treat life like it is nothing, day after day. our guns and grenades take precedence over all else. man knows the risk of running, but we run away from our fears every day. we have, you might say, perfected our ways of war – our craft, our siege, our hearts – to slaughter and put our brothers and sisters in pain. man has made it clear that we are not to be approached. if you see us roaming the hills, arguing behind white picket fences, run far, run fast. one day when the sky turns to a bloody shade of sober, we’re going to find ourselves lost in our wars, left behind. i stand here i stand here, alone, in a swarm of once sweaty bodies and sore hearts; where the air is dense, and the atmosphere enclosing us is heavy. i stand here, cold, despite the millions of limbs entangled with mine; whose purpose was once important, but now is just a thought left behind. i stand here, broken, with the burden of all of my memories – there is no light on the other side of the ocean. standstill sitting, time is at a standstill. hazy clouds fly overhead, the sky breaks open. i lay there on the grass, dreaming. sitting, at a standstill, wishing you were still here. part one i find it nostalgic to look through old photographs – my favorite are the ones that have the tears in the corners, the frayed edges, some coffee stains drizzled on top. a memory captured on a single subtle sheet of paper, i’m nostalgic at two in the morning. he was there as a brother, but now there is a grudge that separates you. like a rope cut from a canyon’s edge, leaving you both dangling and confused, hoping to reach the edge before your arms give out – the final string of rope starts to split. you try to pull yourself up to apologize for something that you must've done. you swing once, twice, three times and then there's a snap. stay away from the canyon’s edge, stay away from the old photographs that are in a box, buried in your closet.