leaving attitudes
in the same pocket as ambition
where the loneliest secrets
want to be free for a change

it's when the calls stop coming
when the drive ceases to exist
and all that's left is the same regret
which lingered in a few dreams
and promised never to come alive

the communication (or lack thereof)
wisdom carried from the greatest generation
to empathize with today's struggle:
getting the job
getting the girl
finding a home
to fill with love

to be labeled as lazy
or unwilling to commit
it's easy to brush off
unidentified trouble
basking in welcomed fear
searching the crevices of hands
for answers which don't exist

if you can't follow the trajectory
so tempted to change to “won't”
when the future is always several steps ahead
and knees have fallen to the ground
either to pray or to plead

anger to a silent God
or shouting to a quiet self
unsure how to respond
how to take this further
when life threatens to suffer
to **** starry eyes
and stop ample arms

whispers disguised as screams
looking to cast the pointed finger
when the easy excuses
forever turn their backs in shame

she promises it hasn’t always been this way
the touch which turned from kind to cruel
stripping its intended comfort away
basking in the shame it summons
when tears say what words cannot
when walking away is the final direction
the final plea not worth bargaining for

he lowers expectations
till they hang above the ground
where his legs will meet their doom
and the dirt tattooed in his hands
will suffice for a while
inside the chamber of this eternity

the they and the us
remove their definitions
realizing their expiration
the end which has gone
the you and me
existing in separate realms
identity becomes irrelevant
they will never fear death
as long as they fear life

the corners of your wallet
reveal fortune hasn’t found its time
sinking below the ocean of opportunity
below a fully realized surface
waiting to complete its world

your hands want to hold
carry weight in warm skin
proving strength
distilling exhausted potential

dreams memorize the bed they breathe in
offering glimpses between
the hours awake
when the night sky studies you

they like to pretend to carry
the same nostalgic wonder
as those existing in the halls of yesterday
where a picture tracks in on just one
just you
a body which doesn’t know how to behave
where backs turn to the light
where faces turn into myth

the old and the new exist in separate lives
but learn from each other
sharing their fears and their fables

blanket statements
or rather blanket truths
swallow conversations whole
while old hands search pockets
for better things

in the outside world
the distance, the surroundings
the population of one
only you
left with cold memories
ready to dissolve away

it was then but perhaps it's now
whether regret chooses to be immediate
or have a delayed effect
an unpredictable thrill
when the shouting and the silence go hand in hand

when she sang your name
and read your body with her touch
when you both spoke of forever like it was a prayer
a message unaware of its expiration

it's the choosing to start anew
to regain vision after wandering with closed eyes
to admit there was hurt
and there could still be hurt left

to understand the same fire
which could light up a thousand nights
could also quietly burn
and leave ashes everywhere
too hot to ever touch

it's less about staring at the walls
and more about them staring back
leaving you speechless even
when you didn't have words to share

it's looking at an application page
the way you look at one of her pictures
unsure how you should go about this
and how disappointed you'll allow yourself to be

it's waking up on the wrong side of your twenties
admitting there's nothing to discuss
still stuck in this limbo
you swore you'd never visit in the first place

it's volunteering your insecurity
to navigate conversations
and dictate decisions
made inside days
irrelevant to dates or names of the week
and unprepared to call any of it a moment

it's spending days in shopping malls
and bookstores
turning your back on time
like a bad dream
or a bad idea
you can't help but run with

it's finding a rear view mirror
in an unexpected place
seeing yourself before some background
a single reflection with no intent
to leave a lasting impression

her sigh intoxicates the room
with harbored resentment gaining momentum
he lets the first, the second, the third notice
slip into the melted ice at the bottom of his drink
feeling warmth from an uneasy grip

it's a practiced sequence
forged in the fragments of lifeless dreams
who sometimes prefer to be called nightmares
depending on how much sleep they steal

the mental script ready behind the curtain of closed lips
looking for any distraction from the impending
borrowed lines from other failed conversations
still vibrant enough to sting

her walk declares distress
moving into his frame
a delicate decision capable
of damage he'd rather not embrace
but her course takes her beyond him
into some other end of the night
he catches only the sliver of a lonely face
imperfectly aligned with his expectations

First Interview

it's the waves of formal
lurking in the, "What do you want to do?"
and "Why do you want to work here?"
satisfactory answers exist in an arrangement
left in the limbo with, "We'll keep in touch."
keep trying
they say

Second Interview

it's a gallery
of somewhat interesting profiles
and glamorous pictures
to swipe left or right over
they're doing the same
and it's all so very

******

Third Interview

my cold hands face the fact
that sweat smeared across my face
lifts scares from a frightened dream
rolling through a sleepless bed
searching for a desperate morning

Fourth Interview

in these days which prefer to be called weeks
when staring at a blank screen
or a blank page
can only slightly distract
from the question of "Why am I here?"
or more importantly, "Where did everyone go?"
ambition rising to fruition
free from the promised danger

Last Interview

it's time to shower
you ***** human
and comb that hair
and pretend to shine your shoes
make your way out into this thing called the world
hustle and don't you forget to smile
you did brush your teeth, didn't you?
stand up straight
and walk with confidence
this is it
and you're more than ready

it's safe now
to turn back and take a look
at a dream which convinced itself
it was more than that
silently drifting somewhere else