mirror of
https://codeberg.org/lethe/mayvaneday-mu
synced 2024-11-24 04:31:00 +01:00
73 lines
1.7 KiB
Text
73 lines
1.7 KiB
Text
In The End Of Everything
|
|
2022-04-21
|
|
|
|
***
|
|
|
|
I stepped outside during work today,
|
|
hoping to take a sip of the clouds,
|
|
because there was nothing else to do
|
|
and inside was boiling,
|
|
stifling,
|
|
all headaches exhumed.
|
|
Dismal sky
|
|
and rain light
|
|
on its way,
|
|
my head cocked, listening
|
|
to the wind, hoping to catch a word from you.
|
|
|
|
A word, maybe, or a song, or a single note.
|
|
Your voice always
|
|
lifts me up from my lows
|
|
and helps me down from my worst highs.
|
|
And in this wind, I think, I could take flight
|
|
without fear of being caught in a tornado
|
|
or taken to lands foreign and unknown
|
|
because I know
|
|
all roads lead back to you.
|
|
In this wind, in this shower,
|
|
I could easily disappear.
|
|
|
|
What if I was wrong all along
|
|
and in reality Eris
|
|
yearned for my silence
|
|
and you gave me all my songs?
|
|
Only recently
|
|
having learned to read
|
|
and literature never being your thing?
|
|
Listening to the midnight trees
|
|
scrape against my bedroom window
|
|
the years of my childhood where you I did not know.
|
|
I look back and angel numbers appear everywhere I go
|
|
in everything I've ever done.
|
|
How loud did you scream, Jett?
|
|
How hard did you pound your fists?
|
|
How long did you wait
|
|
to see what I'd retained,
|
|
what slivers of memory still did persist?
|
|
|
|
The rain pounds harder outside the window,
|
|
and if I'd still been standing on the sidewalk,
|
|
my jacket would've long since been soaked through.
|
|
An absence of birds
|
|
making their curves
|
|
along the canvas of the sky,
|
|
just a not-even-gray as far as possible
|
|
can see the eye.
|
|
What I would give for the workday to be over
|
|
and to be tucked safely in my bed,
|
|
resting in the sturdy-yet-soft arms
|
|
of my lover.
|
|
To know
|
|
tomorrow
|
|
will be brighter,
|
|
kinder,
|
|
holding less harms.
|
|
|
|
And the tornado comes,
|
|
uninvited,
|
|
and nothing more.
|
|
|
|
***
|
|
|
|
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
|