I left you leaving me
leaving notes that grabbed at anything
but your attention. I've left you again

leaving empty ropes hanging
like dangling threads waiting
for someone to unmake my sweatshirt
that you never wore.

I've taken to throwing up because
swallowing pride and butterflies makes me spin--
arms out on the bridge--watch me take off

but land on my face
thinking of yours
until my lips split
a sigh that

this is getting older than we are
and more cancerous with every cigarette,
but I will fall until I land
so I can learn to walk
away from my convictions

holding threads in open palms,
spinning slowly, firmly grounded, and crossing the bridge.

08/10/2004

Author's Note: you can keep it

Posted on 08/10/2004
Copyright © 2024 Matthew Zangen