Little condo close to campus
With a jail cell of yard in back
Listens to the ocean before sleep

Occupied by more than things

Conversations set to wine glass and silverware symphonies
Fat cat soaking up sun
Carpet smells like possibilities and red wine

But the patch of grass
Guitars we played
Closed doors
All hold a secret
Carefully hidden in plain sight

The birth of the death of my twenties

Where

Indifference finally wins and
Self preservation packs a bag
Warm nothingness filling it's place
And settling in for a long stay

i'm always trying to describe
the wrong things, aren't i?
describing your voice
when it's the words that matter
outlining your face
when it's the smile that really shatters
upon my eyes
trying to write this feeling down
when it's the reasons that are really
important to me
and i guess that's when i realize
i've been avoiding penning this fear
afraid of the reasons, of the causes
that led me here
and this feeling?
it's nothing more than a consequence
or so i tell myself
as i step carefully over
the dark puddles
and onto the hard cement, looking
for the yellow lines
that will tell me where to go
left or right?
right or wrong?
i've been describing the wrong things
i know that now, and i have
each scene played out
in black and white
while the real meaning is lost
in the spaces between the letters
and the missing punctuation
gathers itself into the sky
spelling out the word i am afraid of
fear