horizon
struggling under the weight of these
unwritten books
unjogged miles
unresearched projects
unread ideas
untouched strangers
untouched friends
untouched lovers
untaken chances
unknown alleyways
unwoken dreams
i just want to outrace my heart
merge into some brilliant light woven
through summer leaves
or trickle like the blazing drops of rain
tossed from an awning
in a sudden summer storm
to live entirely inside these moments
and love the lonely wet aspect of scattered
outdoor coffee shop chairs in the grey weather
or the cascade of petalled seeds
on the edge of a familiar forest under the sun when
the grass is on the verge of speaking my name
as though they were the only reason i ever existed
as though they were every poem and every person and every aspiration
for which i never allowed myself
to strive.
i never thought i would be good enough
here, alone, with what i've been given & what i haven't been given
and perhaps i never will.
my horizon is a long grey line of silence stretched from one solitary moment to another.
my wings, if they ever existed, only a scattered flicker of shadow and sparkle...
a life of flight, of brilliant lights shaded by anguish, of tears
and i love only the things i know will never last.
unwritten books
unjogged miles
unresearched projects
unread ideas
untouched strangers
untouched friends
untouched lovers
untaken chances
unknown alleyways
unwoken dreams
i just want to outrace my heart
merge into some brilliant light woven
through summer leaves
or trickle like the blazing drops of rain
tossed from an awning
in a sudden summer storm
to live entirely inside these moments
and love the lonely wet aspect of scattered
outdoor coffee shop chairs in the grey weather
or the cascade of petalled seeds
on the edge of a familiar forest under the sun when
the grass is on the verge of speaking my name
as though they were the only reason i ever existed
as though they were every poem and every person and every aspiration
for which i never allowed myself
to strive.
i never thought i would be good enough
here, alone, with what i've been given & what i haven't been given
and perhaps i never will.
my horizon is a long grey line of silence stretched from one solitary moment to another.
my wings, if they ever existed, only a scattered flicker of shadow and sparkle...
a life of flight, of brilliant lights shaded by anguish, of tears
and i love only the things i know will never last.