Sitting here rubbing my forehead hard.
You’ll text back eventually.
There’s Time, the great asshole,
hovering in the mind’s dim hallway.
He makes too many feelings for me,
and I only want to be trusted
by friends and lovers and strangers.
These kind eyes carry trouble I guess.
I know you’re going to do your best
to keep us a good idea, keep us okay.
The externals factor too hard sometimes
making rocket science out of our love.
When you talk about me to them,
they talk about me to them,
everyone speculates softly
and I just want to exist alone, away.
The knot of us is already doubled anyway.
Can’t we go wordless and stay in this room
my hand in your hair, my heart quiet?
Talking is my defense mechanism.
I’m on an endless tour of duty.
The shells rain on my shell, some go through me.
Cup my mouth, pat my chest
give me a hand to subtract my duress.
Give up demons, I won’t contest
these signs that are delivered as miracles.
I meet each green day with a roar
composed of all that’s come before.
The chair I sit in is the lion throne
and it’s the truth I wish to know.
Got a tightening grip on my phone
when that song plays painful and slow.
Long sighing through an arid throat,
I download things I feel and know.
Condemned to the perpetual
insomnia of controlling controls.
Open sky space underneath,
everything calling you at once.
The only clear eyes on the train,
red and puffy are their minds.
They lag and refresh to escape
the hunger beyond hunger’s pain.
In mad sick sniffling smog night,
the girls with their onyx tights and
malachite handbags and garnet boots
are looking for some recognition.
The boys with their kyanite jeans
and ruby ties and tourmaline hoodies
are dodging tradition.
Little children awake past bedtime
act out their Nintendo worlds with
spinning sword slashing leg sweep
combos,battling our lingering
demons too close for us to know.
Heading to where it’s going down,
I’m walking as fast as the clouds.
Streetlights blur into long streams
as I blow words like a puzzle.
Sometimes the syllables fit snug
sometimes its a stuffy struggle.
It’s hard to help someone you love.
It can be excruciating just acknowledging their need,
their pain, struggle, fear and hear
the inflection of their voice as they describe
this hardship they must endure and battle.
You want to take up arms for them,
to walk right up to them and sever the hurt
forever. But you know you can’t.
That dark palisade that surrounds them,
it is debilitating their sense of power.
Change collapses as a possibility
and they clench their mind, pinned.
This is what we are designed to combat,
that which others cannot themselves.
By offering yourself to their cause
there is the hope that sustains.
They will try to do it on their own,
belittle the weight and keep you away.
But you will be there
without respite or delay.
That is all you are asked.