The end

Flustered faces
Life dependent
In or on that manila folder

But there are no windows
And the walls are white
Styrofoam.

Frazzled fro
You once combed into
A crafted mane

High school, college,
Work
“something must be done”
I remember when you said it
“it feels like so long ago.”

The world was cracking
The shell caving in
And we had to stop it.

I haven’t seen her in ages
At a bar once
The black cocktail dress
Holding her figure
As close as I used to.

I remember the curves of her supple body
And fighting to stay awake
To keep the moment
In our grasp.
Stale in the eyes
That once overwhelmed
Me with vibrancy

Vivacious and vulnerable
Now drained
Running from
What will
wait patiently

The rain drips drips
On their foreheads.
Sagging, stroke victim smile
mixed with lip and grimace.

Wilting crow’s feet
Darkened with the scars of the road
over
two small burlap sacks
Swollen
Void of color

She picks him cherry blossom
And they walk hand in hand
Riding the high

Their
ballpark-urinal teeth
Misfits of the street
Miscreant of society

Walking numb
Dim inebriation
Smiling at colorless
T.V. screen skies

For them it ended a longtime ago
Weary from the race
They stand on the sidelines
They’ve accepted

Limbo: A State of Mind

I used to hike up mountain sides
Now I hike up stairs
Fluorescent light
Consuming down turned faces
Lonely old men in children
Lonely old men in women
Lonely old men in me
Preparing for death, not quite ready
But not ready for life either

Writing

My father’s used sneakers,
torn at the sides like a grimace

I tripped over the roots;
Veins, snarled knotted
The dark encompassing the evergreen pillars.

When the mud was hard,
crumbling like stale bread and the ground slick.

I slide backwards at each incline.
I rest in the stream bordering the trail of breadcrumbs,
Separate the scalp,
greasy pink slivers to trace into the cavernous crevasses

But the matches have been in my back pocket this whole time
hypothermia in 60 degrees won’t be the death of me.
my skin blue and cold to the touch, and the heart palpitates.
Once the beat traversed up cliff sides, vaulting over fallen trees,
but now it fades, murmuring, the rain on my face, the sap from the trees.

I find sustenance.
I don’t know if I’ll be here tomorrow,
but if the peak would be in sight,
I’d make it.