Nick Petrgalovic, 24, enjoys sharing experiences with other people, especially those whose backgrounds are unfamiliar or unknown to him, and he lives for human connection, testing boundaries, and challenging perspectives. He plans to teach English in Japan after completing a Master's degree at California State University Long Beach, and live a life of love and warm company. You can find his poetry at https://adventhorizon.wordpress.com/ “Mirrorlips” Time's cracking down and I'm feeling the pressure with a mess on every side of me my place of rest is a noisy chest of books and clothes and lost liberty Hope can't be found in a little blue book no matter where I look no matter where I look I see a great big pile of eternity The same three hundred sixty-five pages turning for ages and turning for ages until one day I think I spot the truth and it's with you sitting next to me as I read watching me feed my eyes with my lies up from the pages I take my trembling pen wrote some hen-pecked words I come to regret my rages and thrashing you held me against them listening to every mistake I could say my pet peeves my terrors my overambitions my self-serving ways my lost inhibitions my hates and my pains and all my clichés, with an accent on top To make it mine. Now I'm fine. I turned the next page where I'm under the pressure squirming in hell an old shell I've outgrown No wonder it hurts it's my just desserts for fucking lying so well. I get what I pay for and I'm a freeloader wannabe hobo who don't know where he wanna go where we wanna go with this, to a kiss to an altar? To a catastrophic moment of fault Her lips in my teeth it's a grosser image than You think It's dead skin and lip balm washed down the sink It's me on the brink, A misguided wink It's everything I love gone in a blink It's mothers with children too weak to feed It's daddys bodies too dead to stink Not one sound, not one note going by unheard But every one of them one third of what you wanna tell somebody And nobody gets the full tune They say I'll see you soon and then forget They think you're dry when you're wet cold when you're freezing hot when you're worn out That man's got power That man's got clout He can save us We are so small it's a wonder he's even thinking about us at all He stands tall wears bright He's a beacon of faith Burn him to get what you would from an eighth Won't mind, he's strong Never stumbled at all Never listened to my craving saving whispers at all Never felt the pain that I feel Seen the things that I seen listened and then thought about what I mean What I mean? What I do? What one of you has a clue Where I come from Who I am Is my shouting not sufficient for you I'm lost in a staring match and your eyes are closed You wouldn't see the difference if I looked at you down my nose or up at you from on my knees You clearly cannot see my love the mirror lips reflecting silent stony deafdumb dying love. “The First Steps of Winter” Cold grey ground smooth flat square divided town Lines point the way for my stainless steel kickped Lead me straight through a nest of insects Butterflies and ladybugs Spiders in their cottonwebs Warm wooden greenhouse keeps me safe for an hour or so, Lot of work pushing earth with my tired feet I got a mile and a mile more of highway Both ways in front and behind me for infinity, could be this time I’ve dug too deep Graves line the side of this long track of asphalt and I’ve lied in one of them every few hours Every time I close my eyes and hope I don’t see a light Its passing brightness warns me with the rolling of wheels Every time I close my eyes my body shakes free of all the heavy load burdens I been carrying with me Every time I close my eyes I hear the voice This is my choice This is my choice I chose my path A dead and frozen future Piled up in the snow like a feast for the bears My choice to be a fugitive, a runaway slave With his hopes and his worries lost Up in the air My choice to go alone Cause I always did before My choice to pay attention to a debt That I couldn’t ignore. I woke up, eyes blurry, feet cold and in a hurry For my newfound life Seen a Fall turn to ashes, white and snowy Know I’d wake up in a panic at the last few inches Long trip home through a flying metal cabin But not as long as the house I hung my hat in Sombre eyes took in the final playground where no children played that season Looking from high on a concrete perch Steps up and down across the elevated bridge Wrapped up in my shield of warmth Breath escaping up toward the mountains I’d never climbed By choice I’d come searching for my final descent, Well my time searching came and went Back the way I came, but the path was different I’d come seeking a rising sun and found myself a dawn, But when I took my leave I was following the dusk And in the twilight of my journey, Dreading my hometown I wondered with teary eyes what I’d found, I’d found my voice. “I am Afrayed” I am so afraid of defending myself of meeting resistance with resistance I would rather endure the pain defenseless. But I can't take it any more. I need my hands in front of me up in protection I need my shield at my back and at my side covering me I am afraid to defend myself and cut with my sword; I am afraid of hurting you, even as I suffer the pain. I am afraid of making you defend yourself, And I am more afraid that you won't, and that I'll cut you down, wound you with all my force. I am afraid of my power. I am afraid my power is less than it is, and I am afraid that it is more than I can handle. I am afraid I am more than this world can handle, and more importantly, I am afraid I am more than you can handle. I'm afraid you're afraid, afraid of me, afraid you're right, that I'm too much. I'm afraid if I'm right, that you are strong, as strong as me, Strong enough to be my shield and my sword, the kind I can swing at full force and you will not break, the kind that I can hold against my worst onslaughts and you will not break. I am afraid you are a sword in a stone, you cannot be moved, you cannot be taken, you will not budge, and I am the one whose hand can pull you out and I am not strong enough to free you. But I want to. I am afraid to be wrong, that you are happy where you're sheathed, that I am pulling you out of where you belong. And I am afraid of my fear, that I am right, that you are the one I need to slay my demons. I am afraid they are our demons, I fear our foes are our own. I am afraid to use you, to wield you. I'm afraid you'll chip, you'll scuff. When you bend I'm afraid you'll break, and I'm afraid that fear will twist me into a man more broken than I feel I am. I am afraid despite all this fear, I need to pull you loose, I need to free you. I need to use your edge, you are sharp. Sharp enough to pierce the plate of my own shell, to kill myself if only you can. I am afraid to rely on you as my armor, and as my blade, that you are my last line of defense, and my fiercest attack, and that after you, there is nothing on my chest there is nothing in my hand that all I'll have to hold is myself, or the dust where I lie in the grave that slips though my fingers. I can't live with this fear. I must be brave. And if you break? If I bend you too far or hold you too close, that your double edge will cut my chest, pressed against me by the force of life which I am dying to resist. I am afraid to be alive with you and die without you, and I am afraid to live if it means your death. And I am afraid to bury you with me when I fall if you can still fight another day, unbent and unbroken, because you are the one, the strongest one that opens me up from the tip of my chin to the bottom of my heart and the hardest one who sustains the worst challenge I seek to face. I cannot penetrate your shield with my own hands, and I'm afraid I must take your sword and plunge it into you, into yourself, because I am weak, and cannot defense myself, so I must see how you fare on your own, and that is only fair to me, I am afraid. Lieutenant Pretty sure I'm going to scream every single god damn crack of voice It won't be contained much more and it doesn't seem like a choice Pretty sure I'm going to blow pound the walls full of holes White prison mirror shining frame surrounds my head Knowing what I know, I can't put a fist through that tomb I'd make a mess and that won't go So I'll babble in my own echoes. I don't need a wound to tell me what lies beyond, the wall has its looking holes and I can see tiny pinpricks letting light look back at me. They drizzle sounds and trickle scents remind me of my memories lead me to the edge, and there I claw, looking for a line to draw on the peaceful prison wall that turns my message of escape back to me, but upside-down. I read it, lost my own words confused by myself. These walls are thick, many-layered, and here I am safe to scream my many voices unafraid that those beyond will hear
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