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wasting @ my time buried beneath or between or below the i’m always right’s the apologies too often offered is a reason, maybe not a reasonable explanation, but one that’s senseless enough to make sense, so much nothingness never nears the end of a start that started when he was near enough to fear close like clothes covering my body in bewildered sticky stains that still stick like sweat or scars to my skin, made apparent when emotion encountered thick and heavy into this i fall following old patterns like stitching my seams and my teeth together as though talking is only telling too much of what no one would want to know i treasure the crinkly corners of your eyes, they shimmer when smiles spread— the lashes, long and substantial, validated as a veil to disguise your disgust or delight, your lips- lower thicker than top, curved kind of crooked portrayed as, perhaps, time itself it’s tangible: we can feel it falling through fingertips which never quite grip when gripping is required though equipped to grip with lines used to identify identification occasionally rational, mostly idealistic and young, youth used to be cherished, now only nothing but a dream once held in hands once small and innocent now corrupt and big with blisters and calluses sprinkled like freckles sun stays behind constant cloud of inconsistent, one part shine the other half hidden in snow sneaking down dancing in headlights on dark star-soaked rural roads most nights there’s two more months till summer sweeps me from feet till there’s nothing left to lose and freedom has found face in mine Older Entries |
