My body
Insists that I
Never
Desert you.

I sit looking at them.
Their names stare at me with blank expressions.
In a mood of unabbreviated luck, I choose one
but only one.
This curious anchor weighting me
now sinks to the bottom of the lapping tongues of water.
Once an idea of adventure, turned into an anchor of responsibility.
This beacon of skyline, no longer looming
defeated by its own receding horizon.

Forever is an impossible word.
You can never wrap anything around it.
It’s the string too short to wrap around the package.
After all, we are only human.
Forever is a whisper of maybes;
A perhaps waiting in the downpour.
He doesn’t mean it.
He couldn’t.
Forever is an impossible word
But I love the impossible.

I sit in bed and listen to the crickets chime
I can hear them through these wispy walls
they always know when I am thinking
or not thinking.

I sit in bed and listen to my own heartbeat
the pulses of a drug I require
necessary, yet distant
the faint stirring of mustang hooves.

I sit in bed and listen to the rustle
of the trees breathing against my window.
Their breaths fog the glass
as they laugh.

I sit in bed and listen to you tell me
that contrary to my own belief
I am not crazy.
But maybe you are.