this beautiful, broken thing
has fallen into beautiful, broken pieces.
scattered upon the floor,
as your bare feet try to dodge them,
and you maneuver around them as best you can
to try to get to me.
but i am on the other side of the room,
i am on the other side of the world.
and every time you trip up, every time you get so lost in my eyes that you forget to keep your balance,
you have to start over at the other end of the room.
and each time your clumsy hands fumble with the key,
you get farther
and farther
away.
i am falling
farther
and farther
behind.
so, please,
get out of your own head, for once
look up, not at me, but at the finish line
and remember that each time you fall
you start over
even if it is
farther
and farther
away,
it's not over.
an illusion of the mind,
a figmented imaginary barrier blocking me to you,
because as the walls close in,
and the pieces fall into more pieces,
it is all in your head.
the only thing that is stopping you to get to me
is yourself.