life from the crossroads,
meeting a blood clot
already thickened from
running sweat, a stone's
throw from a ***** four
letter word: P-A-S-T
in another stream (one
wayward than my own)
i would be he, shivering
and possibly unrepentant,
emphatically gone too
far beyond anyone's
morals.
yet in another, i live out
the dreams of the father,
or 'sins' if pure honesty
had its say. what i wouldn't
give for a beautiful wife,
obedient children, a gold
standard like this stanza's
length; prosperous--
preposterous. in my own
uncharted stream, i would
live out troye's dream. free
on the inside, eons removed
from demi's 'sober'. what
choice does one have but
to make pop stars their
patron saints? maybe
mr. a-z has the answer?
scribes and stagehands,
satirists and spirits so
wishfully kindred, i smile
in solidarity. each line a
flame of pathos, each tap
a letter in loosening of
veins, like makeshift gifts
of a medium we inhabit.
to my girl, a lady-to-be
of such unwavering faith,
love someone even when
the party's over. keep
your billie eilish close by
like a bluebird in my heart;
highwayman to highwoman.
but most of all to Him,
patient with my inevitable
candidness just as he would
if my bargain held up. if we
were in love, I might just
learn to trust myself again.