they said you just died
though it seemed your death itself  
was 10 years in the making

she'll claim it's so sad
and her heart is finally shattered
though the moral support
a mask so easy to hide behind
can ******* the weakest minds

obligations to cry
and weep into empty telephones
when relief is instilled in the bleakest tones
something you would've agreed with

they'll lay you into the ground
or onto an ascending throne
we'll choose to forget the shell
and recognize the former you
the one capable of standing
tall enough for the winds
to carry into flight

delay of a dead winter
when prospects of warm
feature across familiar ground
the steps taken with unflinching certainty
perfected in decades of practice

where sneakers and ***** jeans
defined endless afternoons caked in dirt
from the backyard
where we shared every dream we've ever had
and stole each others secrets for eternity

broken lips unleash frigid air
waiting for the train
to some temporary employment
something to save a little money
while this future still waits to give an answer

the sound of your soft voice
singing into my ear as you played with my hair
while our bodies felt like one
and we ignored time as long as we could

in the wilderness of old graffiti
staring you down, waiting for the Path
shined shoes trembling
refusing to accept this

it's the next day and the one after
the job ends
the waiting begins
you find yourself in a familiar room
wondering how you ended up here

his hands are not coated
by the same coal instilled in his place of work
they arise out of ashes of an unseen fire
wielding its flame in unwelcomed areas

where truth and lies are rooted in the same sin
masking filth over pale skin too afraid of the sun
and telling shadows their worth can never be proven
in the ether of endless night

his rot, his grime which he wears like a badge
safely dissolving his shame
for he breathes in isolated air
which lingers in the pockets of smoke

hiding the last face she showed him
for its disturbance evoked a different life
than the one he'd like to lead
and kept his hands from the pillages of dirt

hands too terrified of wash
to see what's been hiding all this time
when their sense of duty finds its limit
when the work becomes fire
and the fire becomes forever
venturing into the forest of night
taking pity on the poor souls
too blind to see what they've done

she takes a blue pen
writes "man" over a scribbled out "beverage"
of a Dunkin' Donuts coffee warning
after I suggested with a sarcastic tone
the blue almost as dark as her black nail polish
chipping away if you look close enough

she mentions a story
of her boyfriend and his new car
something with adventure and romance
like a hard boiled detective story

my black and blue hoodie
slightly too big
but comfortable in this winter

the rest of them make separate orders
prolonging our hang out
when there are no immediate plans for later
and no one wants to volunteer their parents' house

all of our backpacks pile together on the floor
they're useless until Monday
hers is a regular bag with notebooks peeking out

she says Dunkin' Donuts coffee is good
but she prefers Starbucks
I don't drink enough to tell the difference
I trust her judgement

who could blame the old man
who's strong wisdom was shrouded in
***** rags and slurred speech?

we thought better of ourselves
together, held candles in the shaky winds
unaware of an approaching storm

when we compromise our magic
and instill new beliefs in our everyday
dropping F bombs in the language of disappointment

where were the red flags
we so desperately cling to for guidance
to melt away our failures?

how can we look to some other future
when the hands we prepared for duty
have fallen into endless slumber?

how can we brace ourselves for battle
when we never learned the cause?
never learned to fall in love
or sing the final song
for our voices were never found

I'm aimless now
wandering through helpless days
searching intersections and afternoons
looking for light

these bones wish to give up
become one with the ground
like the sleepless whose roots
are found in broken pavement

I've called for a sign
a promise to one day fulfill
direction in the wake of danger
relief above this failure

scriptures have been recited
to calm the internal wind
prayers fell from bleeding lips
sometimes too late

the city's muted color
from congregations of clouds
above this wanderer
lost but still looking

pockets deceive themselves
when ashes depart into the offering
momentum of tired fists
shooting into space
harboring some hatred to God
or His silence

aching eyelids travel
to another offer
testing the weight of a soul
unable to measure its true worth
until it's released

and these eyes which have
steadily grown into catastrophe
tapping doomed potential
when the last gamble can't lead to compromise
only closure

a living parable written in word
dotting its last period
when the eyes shut
and accept there's a vast darkness
where limitation doesn't have to be the focal point
it never was after all