Feb 2014
The sun will beat down on your down casted eyes,
Your shadow will stretch in front of you, begging for separation from what you are becoming.
You will fall in love and he will walk with you on cigarette-covered streets. Tripping on uneven sidewalks and petting stray cats.
He will grow apart from you, like your shadow does when the sun sets, stretching longer towards a future you cannot see.
Later, he will leave and you will be A walking hole with arms and legs, like a hollow tree,
In the park the children play around you but never questions how the hole got there, the hole that is now filled with old, used bird’s nests and people’s forgotten garbage, where the others have etched their lover’s name with a promise that is too hard too keep.
You will collect it all and you will not wonder why people love and walk away, you will not wonder how people sleep next to a body without a name, and you no longer question the separation of shadows and their owners.
Your shadow will stretch in front of you, begging for separation from what you are becoming.
You will fall in love and he will walk with you on cigarette-covered streets. Tripping on uneven sidewalks and petting stray cats.
He will grow apart from you, like your shadow does when the sun sets, stretching longer towards a future you cannot see.
Later, he will leave and you will be A walking hole with arms and legs, like a hollow tree,
In the park the children play around you but never questions how the hole got there, the hole that is now filled with old, used bird’s nests and people’s forgotten garbage, where the others have etched their lover’s name with a promise that is too hard too keep.
You will collect it all and you will not wonder why people love and walk away, you will not wonder how people sleep next to a body without a name, and you no longer question the separation of shadows and their owners.
