In the prevailing beauty of many moments,
I relinquish my dread of aging into decay,
They are more lovely when I let all my feelings wash over me.
It's not that my whole life is yawning in front of me,
I like to think it stretches over magnificent waterfalls,
and cuts through scenic routes, gasping for wonder.
Hand me the crayons for my coloring book,
stand back while I blur the lines,
let's fill the spaces with our laughter.
The rain spits all around with great gusto,
and my fabric gives way here and there,
the water hydrating my bones in spots,
my fear of the storm grows outward into admiration.
Open sky and soaring greens and yellow,
I try to chose mine as you beckon me with all fervor,
my mind takes wing, like a fly buzzing frenetically,
to and fro with some hidden purpose, yet all the while
the door is shut, there's no way out.
Oh please understand, I've always intended to end up,
bound in your web, yet I can't seem to dream the same each night.
I remember the fleeting taste of breakfast,
minutes following, my tongue shrinking back in confusion.
A mix of food and a man-made mint sensation fight for control.
It's a dark night, one where the lamp is surrounded by black,
I can find a couple of good excuses to complain about,
ways to relieve my dissatisfaction onto another shoulders.
And all I seem to feel is this warmth which makes me so isolated,
a stagnant air, cozy,
I begin to long for something sharp,
definite, an icicle, or cold steel.
A pin prick to be sure I'm all there.
As the clouds begin to blanket the day and scatter during my dreams,
my days repeat themselves, with tiny variations,
so as to create a pattern, for the all-encompassing, general memory,
feeding my advantage as a slow methodic.
This is who you are and all of my fighting confusion
never stood a second in the presence of definite answers,
the years gain dogged uncertainty, flopping between an instance,
as my reference earns momentum, and a long, windy corridor.
Holding pace with my bus,
I began to relive the sensation,
passenger passing by so many cars,
until I had reached complete spatial displacement.
I transited into my commuter seat,
leaving my driver shell behind,
dead at the shuddering stoplight,
the reality of it was not illusive,
just irrelevant to my senses.
