I can tell you about a detailed bridge,
from the way it shakes, all the way
to the breeze and the crashed out waves.
How all the engraved lockets weighed it down,
and how all the concreted initials debossed into heart shape cutouts,
that have all corroded apart.
I can tell you the wait for the split,
wasn’t really worth it.
tiaw eht lla woh
.ekats ta saw taht gnihtyreve dellik
I talk a lot about Icarus
and how his fall off
can be measured as a
plummet of a
depressed life willing to jump across the bridge, time being that feeling of limitless.
Burnt out, driving too close to the sun.
We’ve found the doors were locked
and uncovered that the key was
ringed around on the soul
of someone else's heart.
~ A few imprints
on
Love’s Overpass
Etched out fabrications welded a beam to a heart to a pen to a different being.
I wrote off a life and threw it off the overpass.
Not to death but to destiny’s test.
My faith in my belief, such as God’s voice in rhythmic vibrations.
Such as the stars telling us that life isn’t too far apart.
Stories being passed down and worlds being thought up.
Love lost in the lifespan of forgotten timestamps.
As the overpass breaks up through the moons passages of the sun seeking night.
It all falls apart, it all falls apart, it all falls…
