itchy silence
itchy silence he hands me a crisp fifty the table between us crusty bread strips children run the willow reaches heavy air repels your engine roars, with my guilt now alone let us repair two mismatched jigsaw pieces seeking to cast away loneliness, my feet forever quarrel everyday i do their bidding, the waiting room
your warmth once radiated flowers wither in my lap cobwebs forming lychees of china
i seized the red sphere, this was home. my teeth embraced only to find the hard seed a stranger in my homeland. home was not this place, spring again
my deaf heart worked your drooping petals scorned only now your offshoots sprout winter visits me, i rest for spring again,
interrupted by my father's
vain attempt at jokes
bleary eyes
try swallowing me
over half empty
soda glasses
worth less
than my mom's wrinkled, worn five
in my back pocket
stretches for miles
gathered in frail fingers.
every line on his face
marks life's sorrows,
every silver hair strand
shows another passing year.
geese stare hungrily
he opens his leathery fist
scattering bread
to the plump birds,
to the wind.
on grass trampled flat
behind him,
hands sticky
from dripping ice cream.
for itself in the pond.
i long to save myself
from the inescapable,
join the screaming children,
never to become
the bread provider,
the wooden bench
weathered gray.
my words.
a thousand invisible bodies
make you
a stranger
sitting across me.
fueled by dreams,
leaving me
to choke on dust
of forgotten friendship.
your hurt pride,
we were green beads
scattered on the tiled floor
rolling our separate ways.
i think of nights
warmed by your smile,
silence joyfully interrupted
by your laughter.
without you
i feel shattered
trampled upon
by an unseen foot.
the chain
i foolishly broke.
let us encircle
the same wrist
of happiness.
forced together.
owner of an optimistic heart
whose upstairs neighbor,
the Cynic,
lives in my mind.
skittish of human affection.
one restless,
an eternal adventure-seeker.
its counterpart craves stability,
clad in beat-up sneakers
they propel and restrain me.
my red silk train
dragging through the dirt,
gracefully floating behind me.
through impenetrable layers of rock.
a flimsy glass divide
now leaves me cold.
waiting for the warmth
to shatter the barrier,
to draw me in again.
over my unwavering eyes.
they hope for someone
who may never cross
the threshold again.
fingernails digging
into its papery skin.
its juicy white flesh
hoping to be welcomed,
to finally belong,
the dream of fruit
ephemeral.
locked me outside.
my teeth persisted
only to be greeted
by bitterness.
but the ordinary apple
left behind.
exhausted soil,
hoping to transform you
to life from decay.
whispered spring promises
and admiration's sunlight--
beyond the fence
in another's garden.
the soil barren,
other fruits withered
in shadows of neglect
as i shone upon you.
for whatever seeds
the winds of Fate,
the winds of Chance
bring to my receptive soil
to blossom in your place.
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