Thousand Yard Stare

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It was dark out on the flight deck. The stars and moon not visable tonight. The hum of the Diesel engines mixed with the lapping of the waves. The rest of the guys were inside playing cards. He was sitting on a bullnose, where the mooring lines enter the ship.

He was dirty. The overall grime of shipboard life had taken its toll on his uniform, exposed flesh and general psyche. At this point of the deployment, his blue ‘digital’ camouflage pants were were out of regulations. They had rips, paint splatter and grease stains. No one gave him flack about it. There was no time to focus on those aspects or the means to replace uniforms. It was not important at this point. There was a mission at hand. The priorities were to do your job correctly the first time. Crisp new uniforms would not help you succeed out here. There is a feeling among sailors that those who had time to polish their boots did not have a real job. Admin types and supply personnel usually were the ones with nice looking boots.
“Smitty, you okay man?”
“I’m cool”
“You got that 1,000 yard stare going.”
“Naw, I’m just thinking. I’m fucking tired man”
“Me too.”
“I just want to go home. This shit sucks.”
“I know, I don’t even want to get off the boat in port.”
“Right? Let’s just go back, cut all this short.”
“Wish we could, man. You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. I’m cool. I’m gonna go to bed soon.”
“All right man, don’t be grabbing chains and jumping off the side.” They both smiled. “We’re laughing, but seriously. It’s not that bad. We’ll be home soon enough.”
“I know, thanks man.”
They went their separate ways. Smitty returned his gaze back out on the water.
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Another Tattoo Won’t Fix Me

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Another tattoo won’t fix me
Character flaws will remain intact
Anxiety, depression & the mortgage
Will continue to be undeniable facts
I’ll still be this version of me
But I’ll feel life under my skin
A slow, steady build-up to joy
Creeping up to take charge again

Cavernous Depression Falling Down Without Truth

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Cavernous depression falling down without truth
Wet streets refracting the bitter twilight of the moon
Trenches & overcoats pulled tight to repel the world
A need for answers that cannot wait past this noon
Try to place everything perfectly into its correct box
Finding out the little control we have while we’re here
Knowing the results we wish to see once the sun rises
No need to stay dry when you’re drowning in this fear

islands far off in the chain

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boat drinks to ease the pain
faded footprints in the sand
wondering what to understand
the wrong ones seem to fall
emptying into life’s easy stall
try to wipe away transgression
avoid the depths of depression
find something good and well
broken bottles in that old hotel
whispers in a decadent night
clothes falling within my sight
my soul feels damaged & scraped
walking away, only to escape

Illogical Depression Raging My Bones

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Illogical depression raging my bones
Somehow my mind’s still not right
Too much thinking late into the darkness
I know where I’ll be in the hours of night
The struggles & the trials don’t really matter
Conquering the adventures in your mind
There are no secrets or answers to tell
Life is adding up everything you did find

Empty Streets Late After Dark

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Empty streets late after dark

Rain tries to wash away transgression

The anonymous walk back on home

Another night’s bout of depression

Hidden moments of solitude

Lonely stretches of cold concrete

Distant lights seem to fade away

Damp steps along an unknown street

There once was a place to go

Reasons for each & every step

Though all that was lost long ago

Into my bottle of cheap wine I wept