Trapped
In his own corrupt self-deprecation.
“Where am I now?
Where have I gone to?
This is not foreign.”

His face,
Beaten.
His clothes,
Tattered.
Desolate in four dimensions.

Not abandoned,
For he has the company of a thousand thoughts teetering on transmission.

And so,
Just like all of the numbers to the combination locks that I’ve had,
And all of the passwords to the social networking websites I’ve been a member of,
And all of the grocery lists I’ve checked through,
And now just like you,
Everything that we don’t need anymore,
We will eventually forget.

I want to steal the lightning from your eyes
And the thunder from your heart.

If I could go back to the beyond
I would take you with me
Aboard dashing comets
And we’d radiate with the neighboring stars.

If I could go back to the heavens
I would take you with me
Humming hallowed melodies
Illuminating with vibrant hues.

If I could assemble our Elysian Fields
Would you stay there with me?

The crowds I see every day
On meager legs, they crawl
Like convincing creatures.
I tend to criticize
And covet
Their crisis.

I can’t see the sky falling down on me.

I can hear the angels crying.
Tears crashing like colossal rain drops on reminiscent individuals and broken buildings.
Spilling through open airways and clogged avenues.
Oceans now over obstructions.

I can feel the sun bursting.
Radiation detonating like a thousand bombs through blue television screens and ragdolls.
Emanating above sensible cells and raw forests.
Deserts now in a splendor of abundance.

But no,
The sky is not falling down on me.