So, I lied.
That sums it up
Why? you ask.  When?
Let’s start with when.
It was last Sunday
When we were in the park
It was cold, raining, and dark,
a Maine January thaw
I liked our talk,
said I could tell you anything.

Wait.
That’s two lies

I said that we wouldn’t be
good together at all.
I thought, I think
the exact opposite.
That makes the second lie

Let me explain.
I didn’t want to interfere
If I said the truth
There would be two outcomes

One, you don’t love me

Two, you do.
I know that doesn’t sound too bad
but I would be forcing you
to make your decision.
Loving me makes you straight
And, frankly, I don’t think you are.
So, I lied.

Some people don’t like déja-vu
I’m not sure why.
Standing in that old brick building
I almost feel as if I am ten again

Leaning over a white railing
Looking at the colored floor below
Waiting for an old friend
To come join me

Reality comes rushing back
As a small hand grabs mine
I lurch back into the present
“Come play with me”

I follow the small child
Tell her the games we would play
Passing the torch to the younger ones
Isn’t five weeks of déja-vu grand?

Oh how those silver and black spines
creak up the rolling back,
creased with blackened arteries.
As the back slopes downward
salt hangs in the air,
until the source is found.
Here the spines are not silver
but instead are crumbling brick,
paint flaking in ancient melodies.
Across that salty view
the quiet evaporates as cries tear,
while seagulls swoop and wound.

The Maybaline raccoon eyes stare
full of synthesized tragedy
for a life
severed from the parents
she clings to so dearly.

The black-flaked fingertips dance
without any real purpose
for entertainment
and communication within
a hand-held device.

The perfectly messy hair lays
upon a head full of thoughts
for friends, enemies, and homework
yet the ambition isn't
anywhere to be found.

She sees herself as different
but she really is the same
committing those high school crimes
That she pretends to be above.