bare feet on the asphalt
empty cans clatter
spray paint cans rattle
running
running
running
from everything we've done
from our responsibilities
from the inevitable
from ourselves, mostly.
~
but never mind all that
tonight there is just
us heathens and the moon
and aerosol colors in a can
tonight we have a bone to pick
with the universe
for making us dysfunctional
for building us broken
~
tonight we will love
no matter the cost
so what if we're hung
is it really a loss?
~
"we" is just me
and the echoes in my brain
the reverberations of myself
in a space once full of color
left black and white
~
i will color it
color it all
shapes and colors
no words
no images
just abstract emotions
just me and memories of you
~
just me
and a stranger
where you used to be
you know, that empty space inside of me that nothing else can fill.
the place filled by a stranger
because not thinking about things is easier than thinking about them
because not talking at all
is easier than trying to figure out what to say