From here, I am underneath
the scene of all
that went very wrong
the last week of December.
Selfish tendencies
can never end
the shallow view.
Adjust the negative.
I’m not one
to plan out
the inevitable
demise.
Dead leaves
fall from trees
in the saddest
way.
I will look
through the pinhole
that you’ve left open
in order to see.
Dirt roads
lead to hollow trees
that dissipate
when stared at.
Thunderous voices
always strike the fastest.
When will you
begin to see
that rocks and stones
were beneath our feet?
Look at the city lights below
to remember to breathe
and recall how small
everyone appears.
Sights and sounds
take you around
to a wondrous encampment
of spinning lights and fireflies.
Ticket stubs
and ringing bells.
Balls to throw
at jugs of milk
often end
in empty-handed promises
or thinking there’s still hope.
“Next time,” you believe.
But one day you’ll find
a way out
of the house of mirrors
and be on your way home.
No matter which way
you phrase it: I stumbled.
With only one foot in
to begin with.
White car, black stocking.
A million of those
and only one of you.
A city scan
finds no results.
A return to the scene.
My heart jumps
up and down.
Unparalleled.
Hopeful.
For every million drops,
there is one catch.
And we clutch it tight,
just like the first time.
The leaves fall intermittently
as the wind brushes by.
And we are reminded
of the greater nature.
I’ve come here to tell you
of this place I found,
hidden behind the bookcase door,
but you don’t read much.
Why would I tell?
Why should you know?
The answer to the questions
you’ll never ask will simply be…
Any moment can be
Taken.Thrown.Torn.
Frowning brows
must be lifted.
False reality written
on the other side
of the big hill.
Reality is dug deep on the other.
The city speeds
and oncoming lights
rarely get a second look
on the blacked out road.
Angered brake lights
resemble the dirt.
Where is everyone headed tonight,
so fast and careless?
Waste me,
so I can waste you,
and pretend that
the piano keys are never wrong.
I’ve been waiting here,
with a lack of moxie,
as the notes
drip out of my ears.
Stay here,
so I can stay too,
and sing you some words
to lift you up and over.
The wall is taller,
when you think about it,
but the film score
will soften the fall.