It will be so long
Until you find my poem, there,
Where simmers my hope.
When you unearth this song
I hope you're still strong
As a slender willow
Bending with the storms.
All I know
Is that we'll get through this somehow.
This desolate world just seems stray,
And I've turned lonely and sore.
There are rainbows in the horizon
Yet none out to enjoy.
And just like that,
You seem so far away;
I can't wait anymore.
We've conjured up walls now
Not only those built within.
And those days I'll spend again
With you
A future farther than evermore.
I miss those times
You were with me
The times we could breathe,
Close to me, right here,
In my arms;
Now your pictures are all I can see
Of a murky, distant past
Tinged with the intoxication of freedom
Of roaming the ends of the world
With you.
And I wish, if only,
If I could conjure up by my charms.
This letter unearthed,
An eternity later,
Are you still the same? Am I?
But all I'm sure of, all I can say,
We'll get through this together.
I'm glad you're a part of me
The butter to my knife;
When the chances seemed gray
And faith went astray
And you're, so, so away,
I know you're right by me
And I'm sure to stay.

I used to walk down the block to the bus stop everyday.
Whether it was a bright sunny day, or a dark icy winter before the sun woke up, I was there...

Walking.

Backpack slung over my shoulder, alto saxophone in its case in my right hand. Leaning to the left to balance out the weight so I didn't fall over walking over the uneven rectangles of grey rock.

Artificial building blocks that make the world flat.

When I was little, I rode my bike to a nearby school park. They had a water park right by the school and surrounding the drain was a wide circle of bricks set in the ground.

But they had to take some of the bricks out of the ground, I don't know why. But they filled the gap with cement...

And lucky for me, I had gotten to that water park just before the liquid rock turned to solid ground. I pressed my right foot into that patch of grey. Just barely leaving the treads of my shoe in the cement.

I sometimes stop by to visit that old water park. Some 10 years later and that mark in the cement is still there. And no one will know it was me who left a temporary mark on that patch of grey all those years ago.

My footsteps are bigger now. I can run faster now.

Or maybe I can just walk.

I am older now. I don't take the bus much anymore. I drive my car to get where I'm going. I run everywhere, I don't take the time to walk through my life. I live too fast.

I've made mistakes.
I have regrets.

And even if I don't want to...

I have to walk with them.

I have to accept my actions and live with the consequences. I must walk slowly with my choices. My rights and wrongs... my own self inflicted pain.

I step in rhythm with the music playing through my headphones. I don't step on the lines that divide the building blocks of my pathway. I follow the grey brick road, not traveling with anyone this time.

So now I am leaving.
I will take everything.

My guilt.
My shame.
My regret.
My heart.
My mind.

I will go...

Song lyrics slung across my backbone...
Guitar in my right hand.
Ipod in my left hand.

I look ahead at the sidewalk before me.
I feel the sun on my skin, and the wind in my hair.
I breathe...

And I walk.

I cut my wrist on a blade of grass as I tried to bury the past.

© Matthew Harlovic