Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Burning Love notes...

Dear Adored,

After every season, I hang on to the emblems that jog memory of your empathetic and yet dejected ways. At the cusp of movement, I reach into the forgotten drawer where you leave your notes and letters that contain the manner of your leaking posture of which I have long forgotten.

In keeping with the change of season, I reach for the torch that sets fire to my endless tears of the distant howl. Progressively he destroys the irrelevant and nostalgic thoughts that are cemented in the, now, burning letters. One after another, each letter and then each word disappear with the fiery black smoke that hovers over the ardent embers.

The ashes pile and leave a blank and hopeful remain. One word left untouched that I now keep close to my soul with a renewed compassion to seek once more the expression of affection. That "love" remains in the murky collapse of pain.


Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Alone at a Crossroads...

Dear Indecision,

A swelling excitement accompanied by the fear of what if?

An urge to move forward followed by the cemented hold on

A decision made and then a decision unmade

The fresh air of relief pressured by the voice of no return.

Stuck in the mud hole of Will I? Wont I?

Forced to sit in unbelief and stillness

Until a time where my feet again make friends with the wind

and we two, we too, are able to flow smoothly along life’s intricate unknown paths.

You think you are so tricky but I have you figured out,


Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Dont you remember???

dear Brian

remember when we were hanging out? yea...youre smart.


Sunday, January 1, 2012


Dear One,

I've learned to take sleep as it comes and never resist the sleepy eyes that stay open from fear of ending an imperfect day. So in the quiet hours of the night when the day is gone and everyone else sleeps peacefully, I lay awake writing words in my head to give my heart a voice. I slowly and remorsefully review the words of Tennyson and Butler and diverge every expression of “love lost” and “unrequited love.” Now, I am grateful for the night because without the revealing light of day I am able to release the pressure behind my eyes that builds with the tenderness that reminds me of my thoughts.

My heart physically hurts. Good or bad, I am pained with a unrelenting want to hear you, see you, and breath the same air. My heart quivers and pains and my face becomes flush as a heat of uncomfortable annoyance comes over me. I leave the world for a moment and watch myself as an observer only. I see myself loose grip of any hope to connect as the vengeful beat of every love song drums on. The lyrical battalion of blame, fault, and hurt lay within the melody of this melting possession. With each measure my teeth grind out an even smile and my eyes fight to stay dry and emotionless as the notes fall slowly and arbitrarily to the floor. On the floor, alone, each loose their beautiful tone once accompanied by a beautiful harmony.

In a day when the clouds broke into the shape of a perfect heart letting the sunlight warm my lonely soul, I was at last in the presence of hope. But now so suddenly I am banished back to the chambers where the clouds linger waiting to drop their acidic rain on my ever-weak skin. Shrinking into my own grief, I pull the covers over my head and listen to the pitter patter of the rain as it hits the expensive thread-count of a man who once stood tall and confident through the rain’s repetitive beating. I remember when it rained. Must it rain again? This time, may I perish with the rain?


Forty Four times four,


Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Breaking Glass...

Dear Anger,

I felt you today. I’ve never thought of myself as an angry person but today I feel anger. Not the ticked of feeling when a dog won’t stop yapping or someone honks at you as they give you the bird- this was louder. I was sure that I wasn’t upset over burning my toast or being rained out of a swim day- this smelled different. I wasn’t just mad because I stubbed my toe or someone called me a name -a much deeper pain rang in my soul. With a swipe of my hand, I caused destruction worthy of the news and the aftermath still ravishes casualties of a room that now smells like the ash of rebellion. I assure you that you were present with me today because instead of whispering I belted the word three times seven.

As I look at things destroyed, I am still grieved over the emotion that invited you. They were right: [You] never solved anything......but now I KNOW.

Clean up your Mess!

Alex Trost

Friday, March 11, 2011

less than a month...

Dear Birthday Santa, 

I was putting together a Birthday list and then I decided that since my wish list all came from the same place just get me this:

Ya that will be just great,