How to Operate With a Broken Heart

I'm trying to find the words
Or a way to explain what's in my heart
All the feels piled on top of me
Pinned under their weight, I couldn't breathe
Until this crack in my chest opened to a chasm
And I stood up feeling numb.
The real fuck of it is
The world looks the same and nothing's changed
Just a slight tint from my eyes that makes everything look just a little blue
So I just put one foot in front of the other with a smile
Walking through an unchanged world that doesn't give a damn
Inside I'll ask "what about me?" and "what about my plans?"
Then I'll choke back that sob and keep walking
Keep smiling
Because nothing's changed.
It's the end of the road
And I still got bills to pay
I still got to eat and sleep and work and dream
With this mask upon my face
Stepping one foot in front of the other with a smile
Passing all the faces that taught me what it is to sonder
Don't you know this hurt?
Can't you feel this pain?
Fuck no they don't care
Why would they give one fuck when
I can't wake up in the morning feeling happy or
How I cry myself to sleep every night because the nightmares just won't stop and
There's fear bleeding out from under the bed and coming out of every closet
And I'm trying to find the words
A way to explain what's in my heart
Just to show you, to show me, to show everything
I got ulcers in my belly all from worry
My back is out and I can't stand up carrying all this weight
It hurts here in my chest
All the way to my soul
Drowning in a river of tears that only flows inside until everything is just a little blue
Because nothing's changed
And the world still don't give a damn
So the mask smiles when I can't
And I'll walk through day after day
Until I stand up and feel numb
Because the real fuck of it is
The right words only matter when there's someone to listen

I Only Cry When I'm Alone

In the morning
When the sun shines brightly and
I can see the beauty in the world
As the leaves whisper on the wind that
Everything is fine
I swallow a pill to make myself believe, so
I only cry when I'm alone

In my heart
Where love grows in transilience
I'm surrounded by the acceptance and fellowship and
I belong in this world full of devotion and care
Yet I still feel like a migrant,
Oliver Twist holding out his empty bowl, so
I only cry when I'm alone

In the evening
When the sun kisses the moon goodnight
As it sinks into the darkness to rise once more
Painting the sky with pastel luminescence so breathtaking
The Gods themselves stop to take heed and
I shiver in the cold and lonely darkness I've created, so
I only cry when I'm alone

In my mind
Where I remember every good thing I've ever missed and
I try desperately to forget every wrong turn I've ever made
Wars are fought against my heart and
Casualties are made of everything and everyone I love
Yet when the trumpets sound the ceasefire, it's too late, so
I only cry when I'm alone

In the dark of night
When your eyes can still find mine but
I can't see your face
Only the wound I've made on your heart
Bruised and bleeding
Choked in the desperation of my amity until
I wish I could only cry when I'm alone

Crossroads

North is the land of memory.
All mistakes and stupidity.
The bright fantasies of inexperienced youth.
That time when your cock leads you around by your balls
and Sex, drugs and rock 'n roll are the law of the land.
Oh what a time we had!

South is the land of responsibility.
Everyone does exactly what they're supposed to
And live revolves around tiny boxes.
Tiny boxes to live in.
Tiny boxes to stare at.
Numb and believing they exist outside their tiny boxes.

To the East is the village of family.
Watch how they hide from each other,
Even while embracing affectionately.
Where the promise of 'happily ever after' hangs in the air
Like a carrot before a mule.
Everything anyone could need; just out of reach.

Westward the sun sets,
Its bright rays stabbing the eyes
A reminder that even in beauty there is pain.
A place where living as one was meant to be
Permeates the air with the discovery of the unknown
Explored by those who understand the limitless potential of the mind

So here I stand at the crossroads
Looking back at every trodden path
I wonder how it's possible that every turn was wrong?
The answer to this question refuses to show itself
It's so busy contemplating it's own self-righteousness
That nothing else matters

Have you ever rebuilt yourself from the ground up?
Splintering the past that shaped you
Into the dagger plunged into your own chest
All the while knowing that this moment is the moment
The one you've been rushing toward your whole life
With no way to stop it?

The right words always come too late
So I learned to cry in six languages
Just to make sure that every time I opened my eyes
I could see raindrops on the window of the world
A beautiful storm.
Perfect soliloquy.

I thought I was looking for death
But it turns out I was looking for love.

All That is Gold

I woke up with the sun
Only to find no beauty in it's rising.
Instead I feel its fire
Burning in my chest
Reminding me
There is no beauty
Greater than the rise and fall of your chest beside me
Rhythmically meditative
Calming a beast caged inside my heart

I put pen to paper
Only to find no words in the writing
Instead I speak the words
Letting them pass through me
Reminding me
There is no declaration
Greater than the act of touching your lips with mine
Passionately conjoining
Filling a hole inside me that I never knew existed

I swallowed a pill
Only to find no healing in its medicine
Instead I feel its robbery
Twisting and changing my very essence
Reminding me
There is no healing
Greater than your embrace
Lovingly protecting
Saving me from the demons of my own soul

I built a house
Only to find no shelter under its roof
Instead I feel caged in its walls
Leaving nothing but captivity in perpetuity
Reminding me
There is no home
Greater than the place in your heart where I live
Pleasantly enclosing
Reminding me I am never alone

L-Dopa (Borderline II)

El Dopa.

The dope.

That's not a real cognate.
The white queen, my sweet dihydroxyphenyl lover
It creates happiness and excitement and
Eternal mouthless hells where nor-and-regular-epinephrine torment me deservingly.
I am not happy. I can't even tell what's real.
The trite saying that love is a drug is true to members of my club
Holding meetings where anyone who gets off on adulation and attachment and access and ass and adrenaline and adultery are welcome.

Darling delicious Dopamine.
Somehow I've convinced two dozen men to sleep with me and dozens of women to waste their time on me.
My relationship with them reflects on me worse and on them better.
Often misleading, or irresistibly mysterious,
Mean polarized with nice.
Something about me has an allure.
Not incredibly attractive yet consistently handsome
The intricate push-pull of my vacillating attachments puts screws in people's hearts.

I'm exactly as painful as I sound.
I'm sorry.
I hate myself more than you hate me, though.
You can go away, now, just like everyone else.
Everything is temporary anyway. Leave me alone.
I'm a borderline personality and
I expect you to hate me for it.
But that sounds like it's not my fault--it is.
Everything is.
And isn't.

I can't pin down anything because my awareness changes in the breeze.
I always thought I won relationships because I didn't screw up.
When I disguise my win as a loss because there's so little of me there in the first place
If someone likes me I'm filled in with their bathroom mirror selfie and
I'm a whiteboard for a misguided subconscious desire for perfection
I'm perfect sometimes but I'm often ugly and I hate how badly I need your approval.
I'm broken and even trying to reassemble the mirror gives me glass slivers.
I'm double-business bound:Too good for hell and too bad for heaven
I'm simply who I am.
Just like you.

January Friend

Shall I call you,
January Friend?

Funny we should meet,
In pure imagination.

Your embrace is but a memory,
Wrapped in smooth opium silk.

It caresses me softly,
The image of yesterday's tomorrow.

Forever you will be,
January Friend.

With halo slipping,
Dancing with the dark.

A liquid waltz,
Around deceptive pillow talk.

Little lies,
To inspire a respite of dreamless sleep.

Here we'll be,
January Friend.

Alone in the stars,
Separate and together.

A perfect yin and yang,
Proud in its equilibrium.

From infinite possibility,
I'll heal without you.

Less Than Three

I can give myself to you

Body, soul and spirit

I can stand between sky and Earth

Grounding the Heavens for you to claim

I can summon Anu, Bel and Ea

Professing devotion to your beauty

Because it’s less than three

I can bring you light and heat and life

Through every atom of existence

I can protect you from mother, maiden and crone

Guiding you on the path of the warrior

I can protect you from seductions of lust, wealth and profanation

To keep your aura pure

Because it’s less than three

I can build your houses in all the realms

For you to make a home of hell, Earth and sky

I can create beauty in your name

Capturing essence in matter; the spirit of Godlike visage

I can offer laughter in grace and games for play

All to share in the joy of your being

Because it’s less than three

I can write verses

Symbolic, allegorical and esoteric

I can stand in the currents of life, sound and light

A conduit for all you desire

I can share devotion

From Druid and Poet to Soothsayer

Because it’s less than three

I can dedicate a sacrament

Thought, word and deed

I can live outside of time

Unrestrained in past, present or future

I can supplicate
Before the Creator, Preserver and Destroyer

Because it’s less than three

I can manifest reality

Length, breadth and depth

I can join magic, intuition and fertility

To bear the fruit of your invention

I can bring order

Combining power, wisdom and love

Because it’s less than three

I can capture treasures untold

Mirror, sword and jewel

I can claim armies for your rule

In the name of truth, courage and compassion

I can give myself to you

Birth, life and death

Because it’s <3

I Belong

The sun shines
The weather is clement
Yet nature's beauty is separate
Hidden behind walls that
Hold captive an animal
How I long for the taste of honey wine
Passed to me from sweet lips
How I long to lounge in the shade of a tree
A meditation on my belonging
Here as a part of your nature
There as a part of His energy
Everywhere and nowhere at once
I belong.

Music plays
A joyful tune to mellow
A savage beast
Falls upon mine ears
Deafened by cannon blasts from
Wars long fought and hard won
How I long for the sound of the pipes
Shared from the breath of Gods and Kings
How I long to dance
A movement of my perfection
Here as a part of your melody
Everywhere and nowhere at once
I belong.

Fire burns
An inferno worthy of Dante
Yet cold in my belly
Embers dampened in
Tears shed long ago and far away
How I long for the burning passion
Shared when reverent lips touch mine
How I long to knot together body, mind and soul
Becoming one perfect, holy gift
An offering of sensual salaciousness
Here joined together, One!
Everywhere and nowhere at once
I belong.

Gardens grow
Reaping the seeds that were sown
A bountiful feast
To quell the hunger inside
Which cannot fill this stomach
That has no taste for such ceremony
How I long for the thrill of the hunt
Baptized in freshly spilt blood
How I long for the smell of the fire
Musky in its seduction
Here wrapped in its warmth
Everywhere and nowhere at once
I belong.

Cognitive Dissonance

The plains of the north

Sown from seed sprinkled

In dawn’s dew

Grows in the language

Of poetry

Hungarian snow

Blown across

The Western horizon

A good-bye kiss to a leaving lover

That lingers just a little too long

So I move across the sea

Humbled in my discovery

Separating from parentage the original sin

My laws are all of attraction

Staring, wide-eyed into the moon

I come alive

Giddy in the night

Flying straight through

This curtain of every color

Into Heaven’s gate

Back to my nest

Besotten of Human Condition

Sprinkled in sensitive discernment

Clear-eyes see things anew

Sight expanded by callings from beyond

Offering

I've come here to sing your praises
To lay prostrate at your feet
The newest disciple of a dogma
Long since turned to dust.

I've come here to offer myself
Once again on the blank page
Piously offering words and verse
Ignoble is my reverence.

The words are all I have.
The words are all I am.
And I offer them to you.

I've come here basking in your beauty
To offer faith in perpetuity
Professing a love I've not felt
For what love can a mortal offer a God?

I've come here to feel again,
The sanctuary of your embrace
The solace offered by your smile
The pleasure of your penetration


The words are all I have.
The words are all I am.
And I offer them to you.

Awakened from your love
Forever changed by your touch
Cast down from Olympus
With a piece of heaven to share

Alive in your shadow

Fertility as divine copulation
Born of an ancient one's seed
What have I to give in return?

The words are all I have.
The words are all I am.
And I offer them to you.

Life is But a Dream (Draft)

I can feel my heart thudding in my chest
I don't know if it's the drugs or the passion;
Either way it burns in my chest and pulses in my ears like bass at a rave
Sitting here now, with full intent to write it all down, get it all out,
Exploding in familiar loquacious ejaculation making the mind
As spent as the body
Sitting here now, the words won't come because the cum already came
So I write uncensored and unfettered
Far above your mortgage
and your car
and your bank
and your politics
and your chemicals
and your your war
and your death
Floating on a stream of consciousness

Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily
Life is but a dream

Yesterday is a Memory (1st Draft)

Thought can't stop
The world's constant turning
And I'm caught in a storm
Battered by winds of uncounted suffering
Swept away through rivers of flowing tears
I'm lost in the current
Drowning in my sorrows
Regretful of a life wasted away to nothing

Until it came, a soft breeze to dry my tears
To calm the choppy waters and brings peace to my soul
Whispering to me
Yesterday is a memory

A dream to be awoken from
Pulling the teeth from the monsters of the night
Shattering the dark into light
Brighter than the day

I can open my eyes to see
The stars have come out
Bringing beauty to the heavens
I can feel your arms around me
And the soft breeze; your breath
Whispering the softly spoken spell
Today is to come
Yesterday is a memory

I know peace
Through your love
And I am whole again
I know passion
Through your kiss
And I feel flames again
With thought aimed toward tomorrow
Yesterday is a memory

What I Am

I tried so hard
Not to be you
Not to lose myself in your legacy
Yet here I sit
Branded "Monster" by some
Flawed to others

So it seems
No matter how hard I try
The sins of the father
Shall be visited
Upon the Son

With no concept of words like
"Fair" or "Deserving" or "Deliverance"
I'm continually bombarded with reminders
That I came to beBecause of you

All the reasons I can't be you
And more importantly
All the reasons I am
I've run so far to escape you
 I've denied the fundamental aspects of myself

Denying the truth of who I am,
What I want and how to love
Simply because
I never wanted to live like you
To be like you

Like a poor marksman,
I missed the target
And I see you
Everytime I look in the mirror
Its your eyes I see

When my heart aches
With the loss I live with
Consequential to my own choices
I think,this is what you must have felt
Deep Down and never Said

Until I remember
That such a thought
Such compassion
Such empathy
Its beyond you

And suddenly I can breathe
I am not you
I am flawed
I am imperfect
Maybe even a monster

But I'm alive
In the knowledge of who I am
How I came to be here
And I can say it
Definitively and finally

I am not you.
I am not the sum of your wrongs
Or even my own
I can say goodbye
and live.

From the Ashes

From the debris and
From the ashes
The Phoenix will rise
Though not the same as before
Tarnished feathers
Burned at the tips
Create a permanent reminder of
Horrors that can't be unseen
But now looked upon with the
Proverbial bird's eye view
A change of perspective
To offer peace
In a milieu of emotion.

Through newly acquired wisdom
The mundane will fall away
In the sunrise of a new world
Burnished eyes
Grim with determination
Take flight to the unknown
Soaring away into joy
Leaving behind all concept of "down"
It cannot be known from where this admiration springs
For the Phoenix flies beyond its reach
With knowledge of the universe
A gift imparted to those left behind
The greatest lesson ever learned

Wings are not needed to soar into joy.

Strike and Bruise (Not All Scars are Seen)

You hit me again today
A one two punch of degradation and insults
A right cross of
"I don't care how you feel"
That brings forth tears
Followed by a left hook of
Real men don't cry
Real. Men.
Don't. Cry.
After that come the jabs
reminding me of every wrong
Every sin ever committed against you
And how each one is my fault
You skillfully dodge my responses
Continuing to make me responsible for your pain
As I say
Baby please, just stop, just listen
You respond that communication is useless
And uppercut me with accusations of abuse and manipulation
I lower my defenses to show you
I mean no harm
That all I want is to talk
That all I feel is love
That all I want is you
You hit me again today
Only I am made of glass
And I have shattered under your knockout blow
Ground to sand under the weight
of what you see
And as I begin to blow away in the breeze
I hear again
Real men don't cry.
Real. Men.
Don't. Cry.
They Shatter

Tragedy and Comedy

As I walk
Through dreams left abandoned
I remember so much
So many days and nights
Lying wide awake
Through the sound of
Rain pouring from my soul
I ache to live
I yearn to die
I need to share
Words that paint the picture
Every cut
Every scar
Every drop of blood
I need to be seen
And I can't explain why
The story exists in the telling
The art lives in the poetry
Sometimes it hurts
Yet the stories still come
Told and retold
Walking through dreams left abandoned
A ghost town
Full of myriad images
That might have been
Scattered to the winds
Along with the ashes of the future
Once so vibrant
Now putrid and unlivable
Tattooed on my heart
Until finally ... Life
Cuts away, clearing the scars
Bleeding out the person left behind
I break the ties that bind
And I'm finally happy
Through so many day and nights
Lying wide awake
Through the sound of
Rain pouring from my soul
I'm alive in dreams newly born
And I die in the fear of pain's return
I need to share
Every hope
Every whispered nothing
Every kiss
The art lives in the poetry
Sometimes its beautiful
And the stories come
Told to be retold
Full of promises and what might yet be
Scattered to the winds
As I close my eyes
And I make a wish
To walk through my dreams
To tell the stories
Good and bad
I need to share
The tragedy and comedy

I Wonder if You Know

There's an ache in my arms
And it only goes away when you touch me, and
There's a moment where I catch my breath and I hold it
Until you kiss me
Because I've never flet as special as I do in those moments when your lips press against mine.
And I wonder if you know
I've sat before the page
Spinning tales and penning soliloquy after soliloquy
Carefully ensuring that a love I didn't understand would always win out
Because I never knew love as a true and viable reality until
I heard the words in your voice
Feeding me what once was sin
Touching the edge of my soul
And I wonder if you know
I've laid awake at night
Wondering how to return the sentiment
Contemplating the feeling, like a dream
I don't want to wake up from for fear of forgetting what it meant
Love ... seems a paltry word applied to the gift you've given
Shall I instead create a planet
With ten suns shining brightly in the sky for you to understand your own brightness?
Shall I label you "Dark God" so you may see the sway you hold on my heart?
Maybe, to call you My Sun and Stars in order to offer dominion over the Universe as I understand it?
I wonder if you know
You are all of them ad more
That no pedestal could lift you so high
Because you fit best
Here
By my side.
Prince, Dark God
My sun and stars
I wonder if you know
How long I wandered
Only to finally have found home
In your eyes.

Emotional Deja Vu

The waves crash over me
Like an emotional deja vu
The memories rise to the surface
Just to pull me under
Holding me down until I stop kicking

All I wanted out of life
Every failure
Every dream
Every triumph
Like a kick to my gut

While a new Empire rises
From the ashes that remain
After I burnt it all down
A God to none
And king to even fewer

The waters closing over my head
Like an emotional Deja Vu
I'm going under ...
The waves crashing over me
Beaten against the rocks

Open the Door

There's no wind left in my sails.
This reflection of a sad clown tells the same story
Over and over.
Perfect imperfection
I strive to be everything
Never acieving anything
Disfigured, deformed
I need so much
I give so much
Never enough to slake my thirst
What has gone before
Must pass away
Unlearn the learned
This denial of self must end
Give way; yield
To a spiritual awakening
the time has come
To walk alone
As the past floats away
A leaf on the wind
This is better?
This is enlightened?
Why do I feel broken?
So defective.
So isolated.

The Fate of the World Depends on This Kiss

-1-

"The fate of your world depends on this kiss."

Arthur started at the voice, mentally demanding that the fog of his consciousness lift so that he might see it's source. The fog persisted, however, and the most he could manage was a dry croak.

"What? Who's there?"

No response came, though, and Arthur fought against the urge to drift into unconsciousness. Instead he focused on his surroundings. A spartan hospital room, with a television mounted to the wall; it played a rerun of The Andy Griffith Show and Arthur inwardly scoffed at young Opie's heartbreak at killing a bird with his slingshot. The curtains were drawn across the window and this was another source of annoyance for Arthur. He had lost track of his time there, not knowing if it was night or day or even how many days had passed while he wasted away in bed.

"No one wants to kiss me anyway. Daft old man." he laughed to himself.

He fought the shaking in his hand and eventually succeeded in controlling it enough to change the channel on the remote control to the television. He'd found that there was nothing to do between the myriad of visitors that feigned concern over him, besides find mind numbing droll in the flickering lights of the screen. It had offered him solace at times, but also a sort of manic depression. It was the only thing to look at, the only thing to talk to and his only companion.

"I'm going loopy with this idiot lantern as my only friend. I'd better look out before I start talking to myself." he mumbled. Then, as if realizing the absurdity of his statement he choked out a sob, screamed and threw the remote with all the strength he could muster. It turned out that was only far enough to hit his foot.

After a moment of his screaming, a nurse entered the room, young, handsome and muscular. Arthur did not stop his howling, but he did notice the young man's handsome features and continued looking at the man, enjoying the beauty he brought into the room.

"Arthur!" he said sternly,

"Arthur! Stop screaming this instant! I have other patients and I can't have you waking everyone up."

"Wake them up! I don't care! I've had enough of this prison." Arthur barked.

"Arthur! That's no way for a man of your years to speak. You know we all love you here. We're here to help."

"Help? You want to help then get me out of this bed and off this floor. I have to get home. It's late. My missus will have my ass for this!"

"Your missus? Arthur . . . you're missus, she left. Remember?" the nurse said softly.

"Left? What do you mean 'left'?"

"She left you here with us. Remember?"

"Hell no I don't remember gettin' left nowhere. I don't even remember what's wrong with me or how many days I been here."

"Oh dear." the nurse sighed.

"Arthur, how about we make a deal. Why don't you calm down and we'll have a bit of a chat. You and me. Now, I'll answer any questions you have, but you've got to promise me you'll stay calm and talk to me man to man. Is that a deal?" 

Arthur considered this and stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.

"I used to have a beard." he said flatly.

"Arthur, is that a deal?" the nurse pressed. His name tag came into focus and Arthur saw that it read 'Jim'.

"I guess you got yourself a deal, Jimmy. Seems to me I had a best friend named Jimmy once. Followed me everywhere that fella. Still, I'd have been lost without him." Arthur positioned himself in his bed, managing to scramble into a sitting position.

"Now then, why don't you start by telling me what the fuck is wrong with me?"

Jim looked at the old man and sighed, his eyes watering slightly.

"You've uh," he choked.

"You've got mid-stage Alzheimer's." he managed.

Arthur considered the other man for a moment, his eyes going glassy.

"Ain't that about a bitch." he said finally, laughing.

"You think this is funny?" Jim asked.

"Course it's funny. Goddamn hysterical. So is that why I can't remember how long I've been in here?"

"It could be. It could also be that the days and nights have begun to run together and you're perfectly normal in that respect."

"What have I forgotten?" Arthur said, then began laughing again.

"What a dumb question to ask. How would you know what I've forgotten?"

"I can't tell you specific memories. But, well, you don't remember getting here. At least you didn't a moment ago."

"I do now. Damn bitch locked me up in here to die. I always suspected she never gave a damn. Still, I did and I guess now I know what giving a damn gets you. What about visitors? Do I get any visitors?"

"Here and there. More than some patients and less than others."

"My son? Does my son visit me?"

"Everyday." Jim said.

"I wish he wouldn't. I don't want him to see me like this." Arthur said. His eyes had gone from glassy to glazed and now tears dripped out of them.

"Do I still wipe my own ass?" Arthur barked, staring at the television just beyond Jim's head.

"Yeah. You still wipe your own ass." Jim chuckled.

"How are you feeling now Arthur? Do you need anything?"

"I'm tired. Worn out. It's not everyday you get told you're losing your mind. Wait, is that even true? How many times have we had this discussion Jimmy boy?" Arthur asked.

"More than once. Not everyday though." Jim answered, simply.

Arthur considered the man and then looked away.

"I guess I'm tired. I'm an old man I'm allowed to be tired."

"Yes, you are."

"How old am I anyway?"

"87 next month. Would you like something to help you sleep?"

"Yes, I believe that would help." Arthur said thoughtfully.

Jim stood and walked out of the room, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts, which were scattered. In truth he wasn't tired, he just couldn't think of a better way to shut off his own mind than to yield to unconsciousness. He awaited Jim's return with agitation, but did not have to wait long. The young man returned with a small cup that held two pills, and a small glass of water. Arthur swallowed them dutifully and laid down, closing his eyes right away.

"That's better, isn't it?" Jim said.

"Of course it is."

Jim smiled pulling the blanket up around the old man.

"There now," he said.

"The fate of your world depends on this kiss."

Arthur was feeling the effects of the medication already but his eyes darted open at the younger man's words.

"What did you say?" he demanded.

Jim continued tucking him in without reply and soon, the younger man was gone.

Arthur's mind whirled. Quite a coincidence to hear such a strange turn of phrase twice in the same hour. Had he heard it right? He must have been mistaken.  He wasn't kissing anyone. In fact he couldn't remember the last time he did kiss anyone. As he drifted off to sleep, wondering about this kiss that the fate of his world hinged on, he did recall a kiss. Just for a moment  . . . then it was gone and the darkness took him.

-2-

Arthur opened his eyes as a cool night breeze brushed across his face. It felt good, renewing his spirit and he drew strength from it while giving thanks. Looking up at the night sky he saw nothing but stars, then a shooting star. He made a wish and stood up smiling. He vaguely recalled the dream he'd been having. An old man in a hospital bed and something about a kiss. It was fading fast and he sped it along; his blood running cold at the image of himself in a hospital bed. He quickened his pace and fairly jaunted down the street. He felt as if he hadn't been here in years, though he knew it had only been a matter of days. Deciding the dream must have really affected him more than he'd realized, he walked into the nearest building, a bar, content to get a drink and calm his nerves. 

Sitting at the bar, he waited patiently until the bartender, a muscular man, bearded with crystal blue eyes, walked up to him. 

"What'll it be?" he asked, jovially.

"Whiskey, neat." Arthur said.  

A moment later, a short glass that was two thirds filled with amber liquid appeared in front of him. 

"That'll be $3.50 unless you want to run a tab." the bartender said.

"I'll run a tab . . . " Arthur trailed off waiting for the other man's name.

"Aaron." he smiled. 

"Aaron. I'll run a tab if you don't mind." 

"Sure. You meeting anyone here?" 

"Not that I know of. But I'll keep it in mind." Arthur said, taking a long drink of his whiskey. He took his drink and moved to the back of the bar, observing. There was a pool game in the corner and various men at the bar drinking a variety of drinks. Arthur breathed deeply and reveled in the smell of hops, barley and liquor. 

"How long since you've been in a bar?" came a voice.

"It's been a while." Arthur admitted.

"You falling off the wagon?" 

"What?" Arthur asked, puzzled.

"Sorry, I'm Jim. I was being funny. Like, are you here instead of an AA meeting or something."

Arthur took Jim's proffered hand and looked the man up and down.

"Nothing like that. It's just been a while since I've gone to a bar."

"How long since you've been in a gay bar?" Jim pressed.

Arthur went pale. He hadn't realized, but he supposed he should have.

"Um. Never." he admitted.

"Ooh! A straight boy. Well, that's okay. We're cool with you if you're cool with us."

"Yes. Of course I am. I just . . . I, uh, didn't know." Arthur stammered.

"So you're straight then?" Jim asked.

"I guess."  

"You guess? What does that mean? Wait, let me. You're bi curious and you worked up the nerve to come in and get a drink and get laid by a guy for the first time."

"Not at all." Arthur replied, recovering his composure. 

"I just never thought too much about it to be honest."

"Interesting. So you sleep with women because, what, it's convenient?" 

"Well, I'm not sleeping with anyone at the moment." Arthur pointed out.

"I'm drinking whiskey with a gay guy I just met, who I admit, I believe is flirting with me."

"What if I am?" Jim asked, smiling.

"Mind if I sit down?" Arthur said, raising his glass and pointing at it so that the bartender could see he wanted another.

"Not at all." Jim said, still smiling.

Arthur sat down as a fresh glass of whiskey appeared at the table.

"I am, you know." Jim said, taking a drink of the beer he'd been nursing.

"You're what?" Arthur asked, oblivious.

"Flirting with you. Just thought I should get that out there in case you're uncomfortable. with it."

"I don't guess I'd be too uncomfortable with it, being that I decided to grab a drink at a gay bar."

"I don't guess you would be." Jim said, mockingly.

"So what's your story? Really. Bi curious?"

"Not really, no." Arthur said,

"I really haven't given much thought to it. It's always seemed to me that people will be attracted to what they're attracted to."

"So what are you attracted to?" Jim asked.

"Are you asking if I'm attracted to you?" Arthur asked, deflecting.

"What if I am?" Jim was openly coy in his response.

"I don't know. I've never really been the flirtee. I've always been the flirter. I gotta admit. I sorta like it."

The two sat in silence for a moment, finishing their drinks. Arthur looked at Jim and began to feel the stirrings of something at the edge of his consciousness. He couldn't pin it down, and his thoughts had begun to swim in the whiskey. He silently willed himself to focus and was disappointed to learn that he couldn't.

"I think I'd better go." Arthur said.

"I was just thinking the same thing." Jim said.

"Let's get out of here."

Arthur didn't remember much about leaving or even consenting to go to Jim's house. He was focused on the nebulous feeling at the edge of his consciousness, trying to pinpoint its source. He wasn't surprised when they entered Jim's apartment and he found himself kissing, soft but intimately, feeling the tickle of Jim's beard against his face. Things progressed intensely, passionately. Arthur maneuvered on top of Jim, pulling his shirt off in a smooth motion before returning his lips to the waiting mouth of his lover. Gone was any thought of the nebulous feeling he'd been preoccupied with as the two of them danced their dance, casting shadows on the wall that gave the illusion one man existed where two could be seen.When Jim forcefully threw Arthur to the bed, facedown and breathless, Arthur knew something real was growing between him and this man. When Jim entered him with a soft grunt he thought,

"Can you read my mind?”

The two of them passed away what seemed like hours in this fashion. Only the moans, grunts and low growls of men making love filled the room. Arthur, in utter ecstacy felt a pang of disappointment at the knowledge that their coupling would soon end. He allowed himself to sink into the pleasure and lose himself beneath the power, sweat and sheer command that his lover held over him. At last, it did end and their urgent movements slowed, their bodies moving in time with one another as if connected like the gears of a machine. Jim lay next to Arthur, who was out of breath but still softly kissing Arthur's chest.

They lay there for a while, each of them aglow with the embers of their passion. Their fingers played light imaginary songs on each other's bodies; each seeming to intuitively know what the next note would be. It was Jim that broke the silence.

"Thank you." he said, breathlessly.

"This is what happy feels like." Arthur offered in reply, nuzzling closer to Jim's chest.

His mind wandered through the plethora of memories that had led him here, to this night, with this man in his bed. The images danced before him like the fast moving still images of an old-style Nickolodeon. He watched them float by until he saw Jim's smile in a memory of the dinner they'd shared earlier that evening. Lazily, he opened his eyes to be greeted by that same smile in reality.

"I think there's long term potential here." Jim said.

Arthur struggled for only a moment to mask the excitement on his face before he decided it was a futile struggle and he let his crooked grin take over his face. Jim pulled him in for another kiss. 

"The fate of your world depends on this kiss." he said, and they kissed again, tenderly and lingered in each other's breath.

The feeling that Arthur had been preoccupied with exploded behind his eyes and he looked at Jim in shock.

"Wh-why did you say that just now?" he asked.

He never received his answer. Sinking back to the pillows he was once again overtaken by darkness. He could feel everything around him becoming fuzzy. The warmth of the body next to him faded and the bed melted away. He couldn't remember where he was or the name of the man that had been laying next to him.

-3-

Arthur opened his eyes slowly. He sighed as the semi-familiar surroundings of the hospital room. He wondered how reliable his memory was, given his condition. The dream he'd had felt like a memory, but he knew that he'd also been in a drug induced sleep. 

"Awake again?" a voice called.

"How long was I asleep?" Arthur asked, his voice raspy; the result of a dry throat.

"About an hour." Jim said. Arthur could now recall that Jim was the name of the man from his dream, though a different Jim than the one who spoke to him now. Still, there was something familiar in the nurse's voice, and in his gait. It was as if he could be the son of the man Arthur had dreamt about.

Struggling into a sitting position, Arthur looked the man up and down.

"Jim?" he said, as if uncertain of the younger man's name.

"Yes. I'm Jim. That's good Arthur." the younger man's tone was gentle.

"Oh don't patronize me. I have alzheimer's I'm not stupid." Arthur said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Okay then. Tell me how you got here." Jim's reply had a hint of playful challenge. Arthur did not back down.

"My wife put me in here. Married for 37 years and at the first sign of trouble he carts me off to this godforsaken hellhole-"

"We prefer 'assisted living facility.'" Jim interrupted.

"Godforsaken hellole," Arthur repeated,

"And left me to rot. She hasn't been to see me in . . . in . . . ." he struggled with the memory.

"She hasn't been to see me. Stupid cunt. I gave her everything. Beautiful children. A home. Worked my fingers to the bone. Just so she could abandon in this place." Arthur's eyes became glassy and the tears began to spill.

"Arthur. It's okay." Jim soothed,

"It doesn't have to be that way." 

"Course it does. You can't change the past."

"Every choice, Arthur. Everything we do changes things. The fate of the whole world can depend on a kiss. Kiss the girl and," Jim motioned around the room.

"But kiss the boy . . . ." he trailed off. 

"Who are you?" Arthur whispered.

"Who do you think I am?" Jim smiled.

"How the hell should I know? I'm a crazy old man, remember?" Arthur said.

"Are you?" 

"Why are you doing this? Why all these goddamned questions? I want to go home."

"Where is home, Arthur? Do you remember?"

Arthur closed his eyes and struggled to remember. He was dismayed to realize that he couldn't remember his home. He couldn't picture the place he'd spent 37 years of his life with a wife and family. He couldn't remember if he'd had a dog, cat or any other pets. He couldn't remember his children's first steps or what schools they'd graduated from. He couldn't remember their names or if they'd come to visit him. He choked back a sob at the indignity of it all. He refused to accept that he didn't remember his life. He refused to let Jim see him this way. In defiance he described the only place he could remember as feeling anything like home. The apartment he'd spent the night in from his dream.

"Are you sure that's home Arthur?" 

"Course I'm sure. I know my own house. Now you take me there. This whole thing has been some misunderstanding."

"What if it was Arthur?" Jim put his hand on the other man's face and stroked his unshaven chin gently.

"What if it was all a misunderstanding?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if your life had been different? What if you could go there?" 

"Can you take me there?" 

"Maybe. Want to find out?" Jim asked. Arthur only nodded as tears flowed from his cheeks.

"The fate of the world depends on this kiss." Jim said. Then, slowly, tenderly, he leaned in and kissed Arthur with all the hunger of a starving man. Arthur yielded to the kiss, breathing deeply.

It was one night. It was decades ago. In a bar on my own I found you. A lifetime later, you saved me.

The thought passed between them, as if conducted by the kiss. Arthur didn't know if he'd thought it or if he'd somehow read the other man's mind. He felt darkness close in on him once again and this time he welcomed it. The fabrication of dementia, a dream, or an altered state of reality; it didn't matter. He knew that his fate was irrevocably altered by one simple kiss; from decades ago to the current moment in time. Everything changed around him, everything changed inside him and he knew that no matter what his mental condition was, he was finally whole.