the past
how frightening
*(i got to thinking
too hard today
this morning driving
by my past)*
the thought that what
we call tomorrow will
soon be what we call
an elusive yesterday
*(choke your way through
asthmatic games of dodgeball
and forward rolls on blue gym mats
friday midnights of twirling and
swirling through some
bb-gun pockmarked
plate glass reflection of the
lonelier girl you used to be)*
that the moment we
put a thought down on
a page is the moment it
no longer holds control
*(drown in the square idea
of blue glasses of water under
your chair and a thousand
and one calibrated mistakes
a one-millionth of a light-year
distilled to a drop of sweat)*
because it's just
plain gone and
nobody can get it
back except in retrospect
*(i think i spent a lifetime
of ten and twelve a.m's
sliding over the
worst of your tiles
but ten and twelve
a.m. are very different
times and that was a very
different lifetime ago)*
growing up is
the worst when
it's done in the
worst ways
a childhood to
exist and a
lifetime to
forget.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
the past
how frightening
*(i got to thinking
too hard today
this morning driving
by my past)*
the thought that what
we call tomorrow will
soon be what we call
an elusive yesterday
*(choke your way through
asthmatic games of dodgeball
and forward rolls on blue gym mats
friday midnights of twirling and
swirling through some
bb-gun pockmarked
plate glass reflection of the
lonelier girl you used to be)*
that the moment we
put a thought down on
a page is the moment it
no longer holds control
*(drown in the square idea
of blue glasses of water under
your chair and a thousand
and one calibrated mistakes
a one-millionth of a light-year
distilled to a drop of sweat)*
because it's just
plain gone and
nobody can get it
back except in retrospect
*(i think i spent a lifetime
of ten and twelve a.m's
sliding over the
worst of your tiles
but ten and twelve
a.m. are very different
times and that was a very
different lifetime ago)*
growing up is
the worst when
it's done in the
worst ways
a childhood to
exist and a
lifetime to
forget.
Copyright 8/11/16 by B. E. McComb