How can I move forward now
Where do I begin?
Darling there are walls around me
Walls you set up
Without a fleeting thought of doubt
You are free to
Chase the things I find foreign
I am free to
Sit and wait for you to
Decide if my presence
Is something you still even need
The only thing I
Ever really wanted out of you
Was to know how
To ease this pain you felt
But now I feel
Like the medicine I can give
Is deferred for something
That feels a lot like poison
Think about this please
Mull these choices over for me
This isn't the way
It has to be

Ask me what I want
How can I answer?
When the words won't come
Can't you see it?
Humor me and step forward
Is it so wrong?
Don't be afraid to feel
Let me hold you
Lets take a moment here
Stop the whole world
Forget all the small things
That weigh us down
Just for a little while
Lets pretend we're carefree
And this room is a
Ballroom for us alone
Take my hand in yours
What do I want?
I'd like to pretend again
Play as though tonight
The whole world is perfect

And our eyes

Are meeting in a quiet room
Hold my hand softly
Smile for me once more
Let me treat you
To the sweet silly things
We all hope for

Flowers

Kindness

A shoulder to lean on
A voice to always soothe
A friend you love
Is it so strange, truly?
The words won't come

Bittersweet words, a sideways glance
A worried heart weeps
Hesitation, you are troubled
Look into my eyes
See me
Not the contrast I create
Between old bad memories
See my heart, my intentions
Know that you are
The only person I see
Speak to me in pain
Let me touch you
Ease your aching heart always
You are so unsure
But I've never been more
Take some time love
I won't leave you, promise
Just let me know
That given the choice you
Wouldn't have it
Any other way
Kiss me
It will be alright tomorrow

The room is cold but the floor beneath you is textured and comfortable. In the living room adjacent to you the world is waking up, words are being spoken in a language that sounds like music to foreign ears. Beautiful syllables and intonations we can't mimic without a certain level of blushing and apologies. Your back hurts from carrying the rucksack you hastily packed in Tokyo prior to boarding the train at midnight; its a deep throbbing pain but not altogether unpleasant.
The past few days have been a whirlwind of motion so this moment of reflection is a welcome reprieve. The room is dim but not so dark as to be disorienting, the rice paper door does little to shield you from the eager morning daylight. You push yourself into a seated position and begin rummaging through your possessions for clothing and toiletries. The shower only gives cold water and pushes your senses into focus almost quickly enough to make you nauseous. You decide to risk the scorn of your professor for the sake of the comfort being unshaven grants in the morning. The cheap razor you packed away always seems to leave more irritation on your tired face than anything else. The clothes you brought fit snugly as you hoped they would and you begin to feel warmer as you shrug into an old leather coat. The old sneakers you struggle to slide your feet into are stiff from the cold but oblige eventually as you step out onto cobblestones.
The world is rubbing its eyes outside and settling upon a soft smile as the sun rises. The chill of winter in Nara is nothing to scoff at but you're happy to see a playful shine between grey clouds as cars and bikes ride around us. There is a sense of enormous potential for discovery in this quiet place. All the things that pulled so eagerly at your heart while stateside seem forgotten as you look to the hills and temples. Soft dirt pathways guide you to aging shrines and gardens that surprise you with bright blasts of color and intricate lattices in perfect harmony with the natural waterways and landscape. There are so many smiles in this place that its hard to not find yourself smiling too. You light incense and ring the bells softly as you pray at each shrine, wishing with an open heart for the happiness of the people you care the most about.

and you try your best to let the past be the past. Even if its only for a few more days while the sun is shining here.

Ask me if I know anything for sure
And I'll smile
Does anyone really know?

Darling all we have is time
We can make things work
I think you'll come to find
It gets easier

Don't spend so much time thinking
Just take my hand and find a smile
I won't lead you anywhere
Your heart doesn't want to go

I don't have a single answer
You don't already have yourself
So dance with me slow
Here in this place we both know

Things will make sense again
I don't know when
I just know they will
I'm here for you

If I had the words to make things easy
The magic to ease a troubled heart
The potion to soften the memories that hurt most
How quickly I would use each to soothe you
I see pain in your eyes
The lilt of sadness in your voice
I want to pull the weight from your shoulders
But I'm not sure if I can
A terrible uncertainty strikes me
I wish you could see it
I want to believe you care
But something holds you back
I become hesitant to share
The sweet words I so eagerly spoke before
Not because they are hard to say
But because they seem to harm you
Rather than soothe an old pain
They burn and sting like an angry swarm
My own words can do nothing to help me
My hands are chained with the bindings of distance
I am struggling in silence because I fear my voice
Speak to me
Hold my hand in your own and push my fear away
Let me know I am not the fool I think I am
Let me know I am mending you as I hoped
Open your heart to me
Understand that I hurt too
Push forward even through fear
And heal me as I heal you

Its come to this point

Change approaching, spinning tires

Let me be strong enough

To stay anchored here



I feel afraid to share

To open my heart

I want to feel something

To see softness written

In your eager, loving, eyes

Uncertainty tears at me

Am I simply dreaming now?

Or is this true?

Tell me now I beg you

See my silent uncertainty

Push aside my painful doubt



Show me you feel

Its such a selfish request

But I need this

If there is a hand

That moves this world

Let it move things

To ease my tired mind



I want to speak

To tell you something painful

But my heart shudders

What am I even doing?

How could I start?

Surely you can feel me

Reach out to me

Touch my hand again please

Let me know feeling

Baby we've been through it before
This same old shaky state
Maybe to you its nothing harsh
Just another game to play
But as always I find that
You steal my calm away
Idealism rises on stiff creaking knees
To give me melancholy hope
But as always I know that
Like always I overthink things
I care too much, too soon
Maybe to you its nothing
But to me its certainly something
Maybe I'd like you think
That I was someone worth something
But something tells me sadly
That that just isn't your way
I'd like to keep hope
But all it does is hurt
I'm used to this feeling
But I won't seek it out
So to you maybe this
Is just a placeholder for someone
But if you're truly kind
Be my benzo this time around
Sedate these old melancholy thoughts
Prove me wrong with eager smiles
Be the medicine I need
Rather than the poison I have

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNPacj2jIqA

What it is
This familiar place

With its old wood paneling

Its open rooms

Each smelling like old memories

It isn’t special

To the unknowing, unassuming passerby

It’s a house

Ordinary in nearly every way

Yet to me

There’s more than simplicity here

A winding stair

Descending to an old dock

The way slick

With fresh moss, discarded bark

The dock groans

Like an old, friendly, dog

Yearning for attention

The water is green like

My mother’s eyes

The shoreline so far away

Lit by sunshine

Eases my weary, restless, soul

This place is

More than a little house

It’s a friend

A friend you know enough

To love perpetually

I walk the roads surrounding

The little house

Feeling gravel beneath my feet

and slowly letting

My worldly fears wash away

With the tide

The light in the trees

Shimmers gently down

And I find smiling easy

One more time

A little twinge
I think what hurts most

Is feeling uncertain

Being so hopeful one moment

Then crestfallen, fearful

Resentful only of myself for

Clutching to hope

You’re further away than ever

A flickering shadow

A mirage among infinite dunes

I want to

Reach out and touch you

But I don’t

Know if you’re even here

Or if you

Even ever existed at all

I’ve never seen

Your face or heard you

Speak or sing

Yet I’m constantly waiting for

You to appear

For me to know finally

That you’re here

That things are just fine

Lately I’ve felt

That the way has become

More crooked, uncertain

Lift my weary head, speak

Clutch my hand

Remind me of what I’m

Endlessly searching for

Beautiful Friend
You are truly a treasure

As time moves

Endlessly forward I am sure

That you grow

More precious to my heart

With each day

How I’d cherish the chance

To thank you

For all the things you've

Done so admirably

Without ever knowing a thing

For a time

I wondered what kept me

Continually moving, optimistic

Now I think

That maybe you’re a part

Of the reason

I’ve simply refused to stop

So this is

A humble demonstration of thanks

To a person

That’s like a warm breeze

On a cool,

Uncertain, night filled with melancholia

You’re the glimmer

Of leaves in the sunshine

Or the smell

Of warm earth after rain

You’re so many

Little things that people overlook

But I treasure

Those little things more than

Anything else I've

Ever known during my time

So thank you

Thank you earnestly from my

Hearts deepest recess

Grasping fingers
It’s a sensation of muddled thought, a collection of ideas and pictures that you want to put to words but can’t. You want to build a bridge from the outside world to the sleepy glow of your brain but the winds that bring change are seemingly constant. As soon as get the tactile sensation of expression things start to slip away again. You’re constantly searching for the right way to put alphabet blocks together to say the right thing at the right time. You start to realize things are sort of cyclical; you go through times when you think the words you’ve chosen are the best and speak volumes of your heart. After awhile though those words start to seem more alien and less familiar because they remain constant while you grow and learn and age. You start to think differently and as a result those words you had so much confidence in before aren’t quite as perfect as they were before. So you start to search for new words, new photographs or paintings, new songs that illustrate these feelings that seem so infinite in depth. You want to create something consistent to represent something that will never be consistent. Even still you keep moving forward with the hope of creating something that will express even the smallest of snapshots through your eyes.

An aging mask
If I could

I’d build a mask

Of simple driftwood

Smooth the sharp edges

Apply a stain

And affix an expression

Of simple happiness

To show the world

Then I could

Hide away without reservation

My mask would

Allow me to appease

The infinite masses

That seem so absorbed

In their own

Happiness and success, blindness

I could help

And at long last

Forget the feeling

Of my own heart

I could forget

My own tired voice

Or the weight

Of my own words

I could sink

Deep into the fugue

That for years

Has grasped my heart

With steady hands

I’ve wanted to be

Cared about for

Such a long time

Maybe if I

Hid behind a mask

I would forget

To care for awhile

No one would

Be burdened by my

Silent sadness again

I would be

A passive, obedient star

Floating deep in

The infinite vacuum of

Someone else’s life

Then after awhile I

Could be alone

And not feel worried

At long last

Because It would be

No different

Pressure & Proximity
Just lean on me

I’ll drag you through bad times

I’ll paint a funny, smiling face

On every uncouth frustration

That appears along this uneven road

I’ll shoulder all that weight silently

Even though I’m breaking

Bit by bit I’m losing footing

I haven’t had time to rest

No time to breathe

Even my mask is worn down

The one thing I’ve always kept

Is beginning to crack

I don’t want this to continue

But I’m often given little choice

This is unspoken duty

A sort of winding invisible shackle

That restricts my wandering, wishful mind

How I wish karma

Would truly grant me blessed boons

Instead of simply allowing this cycle

To continue without end

Justin Mattingly

“Pressure”

October 22, 2013

Your eagerness confuses me

At times the words you choose

Imply things that sour my stomach

I don’t like this

Its as if my words have

Been ignored with a predatory subtlety

Don’t say unnecessary things

I keep most people I meet

At a distance for a reason

Kindness has cost me

My willingness to trust other people

At least under these strange circumstances

I’ll speak my mind

I don’t trust you even now

and it may take longer still

To earn my trust

For what it may be worth

Beneath your friendly veneer I see

Something moving with intent

I’ll give you some valuable advice

Don’t misjudge my kindness for anything

Or you’ll be disappointed

Oh heart filled with melancholy memories

Give me the credence to breathe easy

Even if for only a fleeting moment

I want to open the eyes of a smiling soul

Instead of loping along in a shroud of bitterness

Take the weight of my losses

Hone the pain I’ve felt since before I knew myself

Pierce the veil that so entirely clouds my vision

Warm my soul again

Touch me

Pull me up and out of the quagmire

Run a gentle hand along my face

And remind me that even sadness is finite

Show me the faces of the people I loved so easily

When my heart was open to love and mystery

Animate me

Give me the strength to stand when my heart is empty

The courage to speak my mind

The faith to reach out and try to connect again

I’ve failed so many times to achieve something simple

And right now I need you to keep me going again

Toss a cinder into my burnt out engine

Gently nudge me down the tracks again

Most importantly

Remind me I’m not so alone

Kyoto, November 2011
There are birds chirping outside the slotted window a few inches from the wobbly bunk you collapsed in about eight hours ago. The sheet over your nose smells clean but foreign in a comforting sort of way; for a moment you can’t quite recall where you are. Your eyes aren’t quite ready to open yet although you probably should get out of bed. Suddenly like a lightning bolt it hits you; you’re in the quiet temple city of Kyoto for the first and possibly last time in your life. There is so much to see and so little time to see it that you all but fall out of the bunk and onto the cedar flooring below. The bunkroom is cold but not freezing despite it being late November and well into the deep winter season in Japan. Your feet twitch in reaction to the worn patterns in the flooring and you long for one of the many robe-like oversized sweatshirts you left back in America.

The bulging canvas bag tucked beneath a bunk ladder contains the clothes you chose to bring to Kyoto among other things. You quietly sift through socks and shirts until a suitable outfit is bundled beneath one of your naked arms. Behind you another one of the students in your group snores softly with his headphones on. You smile to yourself and tiptoe to the washroom to get changed. Outside the world is still waking up it seems, people are speaking in cheerful tones and walking to and fro as the trains hiss in the distance. The one thing you miss hearing is the always happy bark or howl of a delighted dog, a twinge of homesickness hits you as you consider this absence and step into the small shower room. The water is unexpectedly warm for a hostel and you immediately feel the stiffness of the long train ride and hike fading away. Your mind pages through the possible things you could see today but none of your theories seem quite fantastic enough. You shave and change clothes, taking time to wash your face and brush your teeth while you have the chance.

The small lift jitters slightly as you ride down to the lobby for a can of coffee from one of the splendid machines tucked away from sight. For 380 yen you purchase two small cans of coffee and sit on the stairs to take in the sights for a moment. The one thing you appreciate the most about this place is the smell, aging hardwood and a combination of muddled other smells that practically encompass the emotion of human comfort. Everyone here smiles as second nature and seems always so eager to talk to you if only for a moment during their seemingly endless day. You think of the temples in the mountains nearby and feel a surge of excitement and wonder at what they may be like. You only hope that the meager phone you brought will be able to scratch the surface of the experience with the photographs and videos it takes. You board the lift again bound for the top floor and the common room where most tourists and students gather to check email and make phone calls. The broad windows in the room flood the lift with light as the doors open and you momentarily raise a hand to your eyes to shield them. When you vision clears you see small groups of folk scattered around a large room with a kitchen. They each share the trait of dark circles beneath their eyes customary of travelers from the U.S. Despite their weariness there isn’t a frown among the group as they chat amongst themselves and lazily catch bits of the news via the large television on the far wall. The leader of your group sits on the floor closest to the television as she checks for updates from our coordinator. She smiles as she sees you and beckons for you to sit beside her. You trade pleasantries for an hour or so and discuss the plans for the day; smiles come easily between the two of you as you joke about some of the events of the plane ride and such.

In time your small group will move outside this small, comforting, place and into the city to the shopping malls and temples beyond. You still feel excitement and happiness for all the things to come in the next fifteen days but at the same time there is a sort of wistfulness at leaving the hostel. There is on occasion a sense of nonchalant but nonetheless vaguely painful alienation when you move through the city streets. You are after all a foreigner who does not speak the native tongue regardless of how badly you would like to learn. This small place helped to calm your nerves and set your mind in order for the joys to be found ahead regardless of language barriers. You hope to find more spots of subtle familiarity along your travels but something about leaving this place in particular makes you truly sad. You feel a certain twinge of shame at seeking the familiar in a situation in which you should be seeking to move outside of your comfort zone; at the same time you realize there is little you can do about a feeling as deep as the need of familiarity.

The temples are silent monuments to things even your dreams could only vaguely grasp. Towering statues and stone lanterns accented with the soft green of natural moss line the paths you eagerly walk. The air smells of pine and mystery and distant butane heaters that line the temple shops. There is true wonder to be found on these earthen paths on which so many have walked before. You feel like a child on the night of Halloween or the night prior to Christmas though even those feelings don’t do this one justice. Each step is like a leap into something completely new and magical; each simple temple you move into is like a wooden monolith to something you can only admire from afar. There is so much to see and absorb and so little time to appreciate everything. Along one of the many paths you come across the temple festival celebrating the winter months. The vendors smile at you in a knowing sort of way and offer you snacks and pamphlets written in their beautiful language. You blush like a child when you speak to them; not only because you don’t know how to read the pamphlets but because you admire these people so much that words fail you. At one of the many stores that seem to sell just about everything you could imagine you purchase a simple sandalwood bracelet to match the necklace you’ve worn for so long. Your group members stop to admire it as you slip it onto your wrist and continue making purchases for family and friends. At that moment you feel as though your heart is truly happy in this simple place.

A small earthen path dotted with ferns marks the way to the highest point in the temple, a small shrine was placed here for prayers to be written on talismans nearby. You pause as one of your group members translates some of the prayers and wash your hands in the ceremonial fountain. A phone call breaks the calm of the moment; you’re expected to leave soon and will need to catch the next train available. Your heart sinks as you think of leaving the friend you only had just now come to know and discover. You’ll miss Kyoto as much as you know you’ll miss Nara in the next few days. You start out with the group and move through the crowded streets, making prayers at the shrines you see and donating to the temple when you can. The train station is a nine mile hike, two bus rides, and a four mile walk through city streets away. While you’ll be tired as those familiar doors slide shut and the train departs the station for new places and another hostel you’ll miss Kyoto and the quiet elegance you only barely witnessed. Future stories you’ll tell will only scratch the surface of what being there was like and for all your words even you know that. Yet still you will tell the stories time and time again with a smile as you strain to recall every detail and cloud in that wonderful sky.

After all Kyoto was the friend you knew briefly enough to care about, but not long enough to really know.

This time is different maybe

Letting you go was

Impersonal, a silent numbing act

Maybe I understand now

That simply waiting for you

Will only give you purchase

Roots to dig deeper

I want to pull everything

Scorch your memories away

All the old pain soothed

Wiped away without words

You’re so far away

Like the sun hiding behind

Playful bright colored clouds

Or the glint of water

Through a thick wall of

Endlessly trailing, grasping vines

Maybe that gentle light

Is simply the reflection of

Something even further away

My feet are so tired

My hands flayed by thorns

Yet there always seems

Another hill on my horizon

Are you a windmill?

Hope is a vicious poison



Wisp

I thought I saw you

A form, a smile, kindness

Yet as I wandered

Always chasing that illusory feeling

I began to wonder

If my own footsteps were

Simply echoing backwards favorably

Egging me forward without thought

I want to see

I want to feel something

Aside from feeling I

More than anything I want

Simply to know you

And that you’re truly here



Place a hand on my shoulder and help me shake off the cold that has settled in my bones. I’ve grown so tired of waiting for you my friend. The smile I can show you will be tired though genuine, I hope something so meager is enough to grant the boon of reciprocity. Let me know I haven’t been walking through this vacant space in vain. Speak kind words to me and be sincere, I miss sincerity and gentleness more than any simple pleasantry. Let me rest on your shoulder for awhile; assure me that if I rest you won’t simply fade away with the cool of the night. I don’t want to believe you’re simply another dream but my heart knows better.

Stay with me and let me dream for a little while longer, maybe a longer dream will hurt less when it ends.

A struggle, the guiding hand
Forcing progress even when
The mind needs silent shelter
A fast, violent current
I know it too well
Uncaring but always eager
To push you far away
From any familiar shore

Push gently against the current

Swim with soft purpose

When you feel strength return

Ride the current, rest

Swim when a calm returns

The shore will appear

When you least expect it

Dust and old ghosts
The ghosts of old faces
Voices that propagate worry
The old wounds that ache
That push back against
The desire for gentler times
Strength is a rarity
When these voices speak endlessly
But strength is there
A kindling flame hidden away

We crawl before running

We speak hesitantly before shouting

Our hands shake before

We grasp something with confidence

Push yourself slowly upward

I am here to encourage

To lend a hand

You are strong, brave, admirable

Take credence in that

Breathe deep and confront ghosts

Dispel them in time

Understand their voices and memories

Eventually they will fade

But some ghosts linger

Learn eventually to cherish them

Yet push them aside

To chase what drives you

Push back
So you’re telling me

The choices I have are

Following a path that

Pushes me away from myself

Simply because its normal

Or because someone says so

Or maybe because thinking

Isn’t something people indulge in

If I don’t go

If I don’t perform vaudeville

I’ll become simple static

Background noise that fades in

Just below the threshold

What a pair of choices

What a tired joke

We drag the corpse of

Something that was once

Beautiful

Picking and choosing the parts

We care to remember

That isn’t a choice made

It’s a sickness inherited

Warm sand
I guess even now

I still don’t quite understand

Maybe I never will

Forever wondering just how this

Strange, confusing string of events

Is supposed to actually connect

I think I’ll try

To sink into warmer sands

Surround myself in blankets

Of something as old as

I’ve come to feel

I’ll let the part that

Cared about you earnestly

Sink deeper, further from light

I don’t want to

Think about you, anyone really

I want to just

Break the part that cares

And use displaced energy

Towards something a little more

Useful

You held a record for

Wasting my time, energy

If I can help it

I’ll never make that mistake

Again

If you had a face

Eyes to see me

A voice to speak clearly

Hands to hold softly

Or footsteps to trace forever

Maybe I could show you

This simple forgotten thing

A key that fits nothing

Left somewhere far from light

My hand brushed it

As I wandered by aimlessly

A silent voice singing

An old soul crying silently

Memories, an eager heart

If you had a face

Eyes to see me

A voice to speak softly

Perhaps you would understand



Concussed, the light is broken

Eyes unable to focus

Ears ringing and words indistinct

Grit in my mouth

The taste of old soil

My fingers are twitching

The old ghosts at play

This feels too familiar

You playing out the thread

As I sit dazed

Watching through a bruised haze

Another endless lazy masquerade

My feet carry me away

I need silent reprieve

A chance to finally remove

The chain you placed

Without ever caring to notice

A fool I was

As a fool I am

But now I think

I can wipe you away

Like the fog of

A restless early spring storm

Maybe luck will pull

The right string for me



We’ll see

When I was young I wanted to believe in you

But like the imaginary friends we come to love

The belief in you faded as my eyes slowly adjusted

I wish just once you could prove me wrong

Force me to admit without a doubt the error I made

In thinking my cards cast me wandering alone here

On a restless night
Thinking the same old thoughts

Kicking old shoes around

Wanting to stumble on solutions

But life is never

So simple as to help

It gives you things

What you need most often

But the single things

That mean infinitely more than

What it can provide

Are always impossibly far away

Things that should be

Simple and easy to enjoy

Become complicated and sad

Ideas that were once beautiful

Sour like old fruit



I feel such brittle frustration

Teetering between anger, sadness

Why am I continually punished?

For holding my values

I will not let culture

A quagmire of broken signals

Break my spirit forever

But it becomes so hard

To smile when change

Seems like a legend

Every day is like yesterday

I want a disruption

A happy change to break

This old tired routine

Instead I am dashed against

The rocks of reality

Unless I abandon my hope

I’ll never be able

To find anything in here



My heart tells me

To be strong now

That maybe things will change

But I wonder if it

Really knows how things are

Or if it has

Long since been disconnected from

The reality of this

Culture that doesn’t seem to

Remember what it means

To really care earnestly

About anyone beyond their reflection

My soul is tired

A roller coaster of hope

Only to end again

In sorry and miserable disappointment

Seems hardly worth effort

I’d like a change please

Surely I’ve earned this

Somehow my countless sorrows must

Have earned me boon

Unseen river flowing without direction

Have pity on me

Your faithful and stalwart traveler

My head is heavy

My heart pains me eternally

Ease this distressing burden

Guide me just this once