I weave a tapestry
Sounds of glee
They cover many walls
Imaginary battles won
Maidens and Dragons dance
Treasures of what’s once important
Dreams cling like spider webs
Each waiting for a meal
Glories within the mind
Times when I acted in thought
They gaze down upon me
Hundreds of scenes
They were once so real
The world of fantasy
pulls stronger than reality
Imaginary place that I built
Hope’s garden of Eden
What impression have I made?
Have I left a mold for precious metals?
Footprint squished into a riverbank?
Did I choose wax or steel to cast from?
Will I be lucky enough to be a fossil?
Will the next storm wash me away?
Time is no test man passes
Is an anonymous legacy, a legacy at all
Water meets hot grease
My sharp words dig
Except when asked
Why I’m bitter?
It grows slowly
My surprise lunch at home, truly a surprise. My arrival goes unnoticed. I look quickly and see lights on but not the body I’m looking for. I hear muted voices.
Laughter spills into the hall leading to the bedroom. It pauses and my wife in a loud whisper “Oh…I can’t believe you’re actually going to try doing that.”
My world freezes. My world melts. I drop the bags of fast food. Like a ghost, I float toward a, mortal whim forgot my existence.
My breathing panics as I confront a mystery. Feelings of betrayal and wrestling to control a rapid heat beat leave me trapped. Shallow rapid lunges of my lungs area all i can do.
She laughs even more. Giggles flow freely in a room I can no longer get to. Each other stings like a bee. I can see the hands of another reaching over her. Lips whisper things that I couldn’t dream of saying aloud. And she squeals really high pitch.
My hands feel for the wall. Unconscious, I pull myself forward.
“Oh, my God. You’re home! ” She yells.
There is noone there. A TV. A show with someone eating goldfish.
I’m ghost white. The thoughts have lead me to my own demise.
“I brought lunch. I wanted to surprise you.” I would say I try to recover. But breathes are still at a premium.
“You’ll fry!” Burger shrilly screams.
The crowd jeers. Frantic spectators mix anxiety and anticipation.
Sizzles and pops fill the air as the burning starts. Trapped in a basket as the world goes black.
These are the final moments of a French fry
Your intentions are clear
Why do we dance around them?
Like a broke compass pointing away
I see the working within better
Than I see the person you present
Toying and teasing worked years ago
Long past the point of hoping anymore
In your mind, justification wins
In your heart, distance breaks even
Lost individual adrift on unseen waves
Tides come and go beneath your world
Yet you spiral around blaming the rocks
You merely stayed in the same place
Everything else surely moved
The opaque window of your
Colors us to your disliking
One day you’ll open it and see
Brenda stirs a glass of sweet tea. The spoon bangs repeatedly.
“Your tea is ready. How do you like the sweetener.” she deadpan her question.
“It’s awful sweet. I guess I’ll get used to it. Dieting sucks.” Ron grabs the glass and walks back to his chair. The exercise souls be enough in his world.
“I thought 30 grams would be enough.” Brendas voice barely audible. “How much strycnine will it take?! One more glass, maybe.”
Her advances rejected.
Smiles and laughs at stupid humor never noticed.
Her homemade, albeit bakery bought, treats ravaged like she wanted her to be.
Her last attempt at avoiding be meaningless realized. While never a pink girl, a pink 9 mm feels mighty noticable now.
Chill in the air
The distant Sun offers little
Where gentle rays once landed
Barren land shines out
Life hides in shadows
Melancholy day grows long
Waiting for the return of warmth
Maybe tomorrow, today grey rules