Monday, May 16, 2016

I'm Still Here

Faith is not stutter steps.  It's the opposite, or so I would posit.  It's jumping across the creek without seeing the other side.  It's not hearing the whisper but know that it's inside.

You are just, I know that. Anything that I could think to put forth from my mouth out of my mind is slivers of splinters in a crooked sculpture.  We try to correct our systems but neglect to remember that they are birthed out of broken tools.  Our lives are invisible whispers in the breeze on an Autumn evening.  Here today and gone tomorrow.  We welcome each other and attempt to hold the other's brisk wind in our palms but it always slips our grasp.

We fall asleep one day and wake up with gray hairs tickling our ears.  We wake up one morning and the birds have flown.  We open our eyes and our lovers have left with less than a sticky note.  Stale fragrances of cheap perfume and bloated livers in full bloom.  We wake up and the casket that we buried years before calls to us.

No one will believe me, we tell ourselves and we thank the soul that swept away for purchasing the darker shade of blinds.  Our eyes slip back inside ourselves, hoping we can hide ourselves.  Another morning like this and they'll need to turn me over.  Or perhaps another week like this and it won't be the burden I'm bearing, just a pole that the only ones left are sharing.  It was years ago we made that pact and though our words barely skim passed common pleasantries the agreement is sealed in stale blood that will soon be leaking.

Will you see me in the condensation on the window?  Will you remember me where the shadows used to fall on our bedside table?  Will you reach for your blanket, the one with the blue and white stripes that you used to cling to when the wind grew claws?  How will I see you?  How will I see?  Will I see?

If instead of now my face disappeared two years before, what windows would I have not been privileged to peek through?  Pop culture slang and celebrities reaching farther to extend the daylight like we all do.  More teams winning, some for the first time and others breaking barriers.  The Courts courted the people with new acceptance instead of old grievances.  Politicians paid for power.  The populace believed what it wanted or put on their dilated glasses.  The judges fell asleep long enough to let the thieves get away.

The sun came up.  The sun went down.  The moon circled the circling Earth.  The dead stars danced and the ant-like people let the illusion of their light guide the dark country nights.  Field mice ate seeds and were taken by winged thieves without sight.  The world awoke and sleep with one eye closed.

The world continued to spin.  Go to sleep little child, the world's a dark speck spinning without our force.

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