I climb a million steps everyday up mountains and then hold the hands of reluctant climbers and elaborate on the view and celebrating everything we see.

Until men in suits show up and tell me if was only a hill.

Not anything more!

So we stumble down and try it again to often unnoticed.

While these people along the horizons offer up opinions never sought and that never help.

Only showing up when the sun has gone down and all the blame has been passed to me.

Just another burden to carry as I climb.

I never climb alone and some of those I carry are invisible.

Only the men in suits can see them.

They never see the climbing!

T.S. Deary 

Event HorizonĀ 

When I think back at the end of the day I wonder if you know of care about all the little words you turn to arrows and then shoot at me? 

How I dodge them with a quiet grace that you have failed to see dripping with contempt and quiet rage. 

Just when you think that the bow you shoot from is stronger than mine I remove those arrows and push them into the walls pinned with smiles and quiet retaliation.

To you I have no time to respond, wasting energy and resources on things that don’t matter except to prove what I have known all along.

Your pointed word arrows are really meant for yourself but you send them to me because I can handle it.

I use them to decorate my walls as if they were your mirror.

T.S. Deary