Fumbling clumsily out of sleep-

Tossing my boneless wrists in the air-

With the fury of a dozen firestorms

My fingers scraping the grime and

Crusted crayon markers upon a secondhand couch

It was Wednesday, but it doesn't matter really

Since I tussle your ghosts most days

And the spiderwebs get in my eyes

I'll take the time to remember what tears felt like

When a Buick fades under the skyline

I'd watch the flame flicker out

And your pupils would turn to coal

With the air around us turning into furnace fumes

I'd love nothing more to explode

But I'm still here while the handles on your luggage

Clank together-

I try to hold in a laugh, for the noise sounds

So ironically ridiculous in the midst of all

This.

But then again,

You'd be too busy rummaging around

You'll turn around to find me already gone

Because I'm a man and I'm too proud

And you'll never have the chance

To tell me goodbye.

06/17/2011

Posted on 06/17/2011
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