I’m no longer looking
forward (to anything,
anymore) and for the past
twenty days I’ve spent
most of my time engaged
in staring contests
with tabletops and ceilings.
But I’m smiling at the cracks
in the sidewalks—the sidewalks
we share, where I’m too distracted
finding beauty in the destruction
and the life that grows from it
to ever notice your ghost haunting
or your shoulder brushing mine.
I am amused how we can still
inadvertently share the same path,
it's similar to the sickness I feel
towards sharing roads with cops.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 3:05 PM UTC
I’m no longer looking
forward (to anything,
anymore) and for the past
twenty days I’ve spent
most of my time engaged
in staring contests
with tabletops and ceilings.
But I’m smiling at the cracks
in the sidewalks—the sidewalks
we share, where I’m too distracted
finding beauty in the destruction
and the life that grows from it
to ever notice your ghost haunting
or your shoulder brushing mine.
I am amused how we can still
inadvertently share the same path,
it's similar to the sickness I feel
towards sharing roads with cops.
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