Nerudas Ships & My Actual Face!
I need to know how my Grandfather knew to remove his hand from the back of my bicycle to let me ride free.
because I have too many questions.
questions rooted deeper than the root cellar
deeper than your pre Prozac Welbutrin Zoloft moments
this morning fog
questioning
fixed yet flowing in the hypothetical
such as when do you take the bird from your chest and let it fly free?
when do you watch the child hood movie
your father bouncing you on his knee
grandfather still alive
mother still innocent to the pains
life brings
and not worry you've inherited the same mistakes
where does the faith come from?
how do you change the choices?
how do I know when to remove my hand from the back of your bicycle
even if letting go left me
free falling
my doubts clinging to Neruda's ship in a bottle
I sealed to save the breath you breathed back into me
free falling
towards glass smashing driving shards into bone
sea snuffing the flame you coaxed into burning brilliant again
your hand reaching down to grab my glass
my hand reaching down to grab your glass
our bodies wracked with laughter
blood's wine dripping from the corners of our mouths
heading towards a real life bitter frost bitten day break
as I hang from a tenement named inevitability
trying to pull the shades on the sun
I'm serious as suffering but unable to voice it
confused with routine but understanding habit
I'm freezing my ass off
but wanting to throw all the windows open
rip the radiators from the floor!
just for an excuse to press against you
& remove these questions of motion in emotional madness
these questions sparking like static in midnight blackness
the single question I can't ask because it could rename us
in a name of hope
rebirth us in the birth of morning light
let us forget for an hour with the wind chill scratching the pane's
of jaundice windows
of what could be our past
that what was
was never
promised
as forever
I wish I'd misspoken
when I said, "you're going to do what you have to do"
you replied "some times a skinned knee reminds you to keep your balance, that is what your grandfather taught you."
"you're going to do what you have to do"
I never asked you to stay
