Walk through the rain with me Share your pain I am here for the dark days I can stay if you don’t push me away But don’t leave me in the rain And wonder why I am cold Don’t disappear and wonder why I am full of fear Don’t hide and act surprised when I don’t know you anymore Please don’t break me and then toss me aside because I am broken I am not a child's toy I’m just a handsome bubblegum alien Just a boy who grew old Just a dude without a mask Let me in

“Writing is a spiritual experience,” the old writer with a big ugly mustache said. Oh brother. “It is a journey inwards to the unknown self.” Schmuck. “The sacred tradition of stories keeps us alive. It teaches us and gives us hope.” What should I get for lunch? . . . I can't do pizza again. Hmmm . . . This is the problem with free will, you actually have to make complicated choices you might regret later. “Words have real power. Everything is energy. And creativity lives

One more chance before she fades away forever Pulled into the eternal present It’s now or never It can’t get worse Only better, right? It can’t get much darker It has to dawn soon . . . Although, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen the first light. Blackout curtains hide it all. Icarus is singing to you mid-fall. What am I supposed to do about this flight? A giant car with wings wants to hear me sing, So as my plane nosedives into the sea, I sing a song that fi

Wednesday or Sunday? What day is it again? . . .Thursday?? Huh. Strange. Well, what’s the date? . . . What?? Already? Sheesh! What happened to summer? . . . Well, someone stole my summer this year, I just can’t remember who . . . Yesterday it was May and you say today is October 30th? No way. . . . Have I been dreaming? Did I sleep my summer away? Wait, what’s the year? . . . Oh shit. That would make me 44. I feel old. I used to feel bold. Now I am cold and old. What happene

One day you won't be able to move like this . . . I remind myself as I workout. The scene from Rocky when Adrian walks into the arena at the end of round 14 and sees Rocky, barely alive, reaching for the ropes, pulling himself up to his feet, while his trainer tells him to stay down, makes me cry sometimes. I wish it was her and I. In the movie, Rocky stands up and waves Apollo Creed in, taunting him. And he almost wins; but we aren’t at the movies, and my lady is an

“Humility and forgiveness are the antidotes to shame.” Pulling out my hair Holding in a silent scream Tears rushing down in a steady stream I can’t breathe Drowning in a sea I can’t see, only feel This can’t be real This can’t be over She meant everything to me Freezing Shivering This is not where I belong Holding on Holding my breath Terrified of what comes next Guilt drags me down Pride on display, like a crown Fear eats at the flesh Until there is nothi

It happened again. Another active shooter, this time at an elementary school. It was only a few years ago when Ethan shot-up Safeway, killing two people. But this time it was an elementary school . . . This community is grieving. This community is bleeding. The richest city in the richest state is broken. Schools should be safe. They say he, a 16 year old kid, shot through the locks with a shotgun. I’ve worked at Silver Rail Elementary School several times; I’ve worked at alm

I think I’ll love you forever which is a bit of a bummer since you aren’t here and since forever sounds pretty long born to be broken always left hoping better days will rise with the sun why did it have to be this way? I know this is my fault and I can’t ask for help the world around me melts and I can’t ask you for help my pride is telling me to hide love in disguise, dressed as fear turning slowly to face the shadows you belong here I think I’ll love you forever and not j

Will you die with your music still in you? Will you still have love to give at the end? Did you forgive, or will you go with a chest full of regrets and a belly full of shame? Did you let fear lead or did you bleed for what you believed? What did you see? And what did you do? Will you die without ever touching the truth? Were you used? Were you played? Did you act a part on the Grand Stage? Did your soul ever burst out of you through art? Did you burn hot with passion? Or did

some kids skip down the hallways some run but these kids saw the barrel of a gun pointed at them numb shock denial grief what kind of God has this part of his/her plan? what kind of evil is this? three kids and Megan won’t see their loved ones ever again. he robbed the world of them. where’s the light now? where’s the hope? this darkness is so loud right now. disabled kids were targeted. fear pain guilt shame it comes and goes in waves.

I imagined: A corn maze and a haunted house A concert or two Romantic dinners Tender sex Kinky sex Long hugs Dog walks and naps Movies and baking Her naked body intertwined with mine as we watch the sun rise Coffee and poetry Wine and her laugh Long drives and wishing we had more time I imagined this, but what I’ll probably get is: a winter full of regret and a chest full of guilt A dull ache A cold bed And head full of bullshit

I wonder what those kids would say to us today? If they could tell their parents one more thing before they leave, I wonder what it would be? But, we won’t ever hear them speak again. Schools should be safe. He took a shotgun to the special education room. Sick fuck. Those are my kids. Innocent. They were innocent. Megan was there. But she’s not here now. He got her. I think I know what she would say—it’s stuck in my head, “The only thing more powerf

I want to hang up on my mom as she rattles on about nothing on the phone. I don't have any good news to the questions she's asking. But before she says goodbye, she asks if there's anything she can pray for. For the first time in 20 years, I answer the question. “The kids and their families,” I say. “And for Megan.” “Okay. Of course. But is there anything for you I can pray about?” I hesitate. “You can pray for Stanley . . . And you can pray for Kaitlyn.” “Is she okay?” “I d

Megan’s Facebook bio reads, “The only thing more powerful than hate is love.” She’s gone now. The Silver Rail shooter got her. 10 years ago she worked at The Boys And Girls Club. I barely knew her. But she was kind. She was a sweet human. Pray for her family. Pray for the kids. Pray for the parents. And pray for the community. Even if you don’t believe, pray for them. First there was Ethan, The Safeway shooter, and now there is sweet Megan, a victim of The Silver Rail shoot

Send me a math problem that'll make me shit my pants. Send me a weird-ass Instagram reel you find oddly hilarious. Send me the songs you are feeling today. Send me another book suggestion. Send me this month's lesson plan. Send me another love letter. Send me a voice message telling me about the best part of your day. And send me one more chance, even if I don’t deserve it. Send me a sign letti

Thank the trees for the air you breathe. Thank the sun for her light and warmth. Thank the soil for giving you room to grow. Thank the water for keeping you alive. Thank the animals who died to feed you today. Thank the friend who makes you laugh. Thank the lover who becomes your best friend. Thank your dog for his loyalty. Thank the plants for spreading their seeds. The life around us gives us everything we need; And: The trees, The wi

Where have all my pillows gone? . . . My bed is missing a few things lately. Definitely a few of these damn pillows, But also: Her warmth, Her heartbeat, Her arms, Her snoring, Her moans, Her cold feet, And her head, as she curls up in a ball and rests it on my chest. Sleep is cold and shallow here in this bed. Tragedy echoes in this head. My dreams dance, slightly out of reach again; While my memories hav

There is a little boy sitting in the corner of this room crying into his hands. A fighter stands guard, protecting him, never letting anyone get close. There’s a woman knocking on the door. The fighter jumps, ready to brawl, but the little boy grabs his arm and shakes his head, wiping away his tears. He walks by the fighter to open the door for the lady, letting her in. She nods to the fighter and sits down by the boy. They play a game of Uno, while the fighter watches, a

We’ve been through hell and now we look back to see we have a few demons following us closely. Our shadows invite the demons in. But I promise you, Love, I am fighting them. The person who broke me tells me I am too broken to love. And I understand what she means. The irony stings. The demons sing. But I promise you, Love, I am fighting them. Don’t you remember, I was also tasked with forgiving the impossible? So I know how hard it is. I know how scary it can be. I

Sunlight from the window shines on his face. Slowly, and with an exaggerated wince, he pulls out his sunglasses and puts them on. Still uncomfortable, he cracks his neck, pulling it violently from one side to the other one. An unknowing sigh leaves his mouth. There’s a beautiful woman looking at him illuminated in the massive beam of light. What she sees in him, he has no idea. You see, he is wearing sweatpants, slippers, a very old hoodie, a ball cap and his sunglasses—no