Everybody moves on.
I keep holding on.
Vice grip blues.
I hold onto you, but you never turned your head to see me.
We thought on the same plane, I existed once
maybe that was my defect. Seems personal now.
But it’s not your problem, you just kept walking
into the sun- or maybe an impasse and then a rest stop to thank the ground for keeping pace
I wanted you to wait for me. I could hear the shuffle of feet
You never said goodbye.
You never told me you’d miss me.
The days stretched into years.
I’m still waiting here.
The kids are ok, we need to make time
Time runs out, so does this life
You and I
We won’t stay together
That’s ok, no one else does either
Breaking stuff, in between, screams, accusations
pounding on the floor to make up, bodies writhe, then sedation
but that never healed anything.
I’d take you anyway you would come
Just know I’m gone before you’re done
It’s in my nature to not care what happens to us
Settled less in your heart more than it ever was
My box shaped heart, jagged lines where butterflies stirred
Dreams of adolescents who found love the first time, possible, inert
Maturity and leftovers, jilted lovers fighting over the scraps
Spilling into streams of lust, I would trade for the hole filled gaps
purpose- stripped of pretense
And all the strings we puppeteer with safety nets
Over and over
Until I walk home, passing your remnants along the road
Moths scurried in darkness, no color to their wings
Three months severed, petty things,
no wisdom to bleed
Deep into the splintered void- where the days of our youth were made.
Our unfamiliar waves cast shades of rain,
now depraved- with no more or less from what was saved.
Floundering under frosted skies,
fleshed into salt from tired eyes.
Peered out into the open road and then threw out everything I owned.
It’s just not easy to talk to you- to look at you, and to only think of two
once the world falls away. What happens when you leave?
The novelty wore off, somehow we made it through the night anyway.
…and numbered days;
Tears blur through these eyes- perennially on the receiving end.
Slipping past the conscious mind
the remains of a conscience friend.
This hurts you more than me… but I have stared down this mirror before.
Suppose the sheen outlasted you.
What love can do.
But it steals the night too.
The morning leaves more uprooted, coffee grounds and drool,
wiped away with only bloodshot eyes to attend to.
Enough to make a difference when I stroked my hair- brittle and falling to the floor.
How pretty I must look in my old age…
It used to be different, staring out the window somewhere around 6th period Chemistry.
What became of me?
The fantasies created aren’t guaranteed.
The phosphor mild under the fluorescence and arid smell stimulating my need to flee.
There’s no disparity in this course I’ve steered, exclusions I’ve made and making sense of the moving air, now just removed.
The ground gave way and I fell 100 feet.
My legs splintered and I’ve scraped and crawled to get back to the top, or at least find a new opening.
Lower some rope. I’ll know what to do.
I heard all your voices. I remembered that you once gave a shit. You once put up with me.
All I did was provide the waste material.
No laughter, no recall- just the spite and the stars in the night.
Weary as I am. Weary as I am.
It’s cold here underground.
I miss you beyond belief. Beyond my own grief.
The sound of falling stars crashing all around me.
Your voices faint and wispy- disappearing into the stretch of clouds up ahead.