Kneel and Pray
Heels clicking, hips swishing
We walk
Down
The
Deserted
Hall,
Fluorescent lights flicker, reflecting in the shiny linoleum floors
Teachers stand stiffly by doors, searching for something,
Anything,
In the throbbing mass that stands, walks, slides, dances
To their next class, another 45 minutes
Of counting down the clock
Tick
Tick
Tick
Couples coyly kiss in stairwells,
Avoiding the prying eyes of the
Lonely, lustful, jealous teachers,
This moment is theirs.
we find havens where we can,
Hole ourselves away from the hideous warehouse of flesh and metal surrounding us
Hoping for heartache, hoping for pain, hoping for a break from the
Tedious monotony that follows us like some slinking snake
Threatening asphyxiation at
Every
Step
Listlessly, we carry on
Faking laughter, faking tears,
We play the pretend game of the high school soap opera,
Desperately futilely fighting with our own ever-present emptiness
Like some great ocean storm that
Circles the slick decks of our consciousness.
Lost and stupid, we kneel and pray for relief.
Neon
The music pounds like
Shots fired from a gun,
One followed
By another.
I can feel the vibrations through my entire
Body.
The music is so loud they can probably hear it down
The block.
No one can hear anything else.
This is what I love most.
The anonymity of it all.
It's the only place that I can easily
Be accepted; the place where
No one bothers to understand.
Cold, Wet, and Temporary
Snowflakes.
So beautiful, so delicate.
Temporary.
They'll all melt, someday.
Nothing can stop it.
But they're pretty in the meantime.
Let's just enjoy them now, okay?
Don't argue.
Just forget about the future.
We'll love them now.
And forget they're doomed.
Our cold,wet, and temporary friends.
Sanctuaries
In the sleepy soft silence of morning
The bright overhead light shines down,
Creating a warm yellow glow over the room
Like an egg yolk spreading over the black as night pan.
The darkness outside is as thick as some great blanket
Draped heavily over our street,
Almost muffling the sound of the light November rain
That drips and sticks and falls
Over every corner of our rough-and-tumble house,
White walls gleaming with the tears of the angels.
We shuffle from our warm glowing house to your warm glowing car,
Depending on watch other for life as we pass in between.
The two mimic each other, each housing soft voices playing over clear as crystal radios,
Each lit up every few moments by your tinkling laughter.
Outside the rain slips slowly on
Rolling lazily down our tightly shut windows.
It patters repetitively, the sound of it on the ceiling as
Soothing
As your noise machines.
Eventually we part,
Me to the rickety yellow bus that verges on the edge of collapse,
You back to our sanctuaries,
Minus one.
Taking the Nestea Plunge
In one moment of poetic brilliance
That was not even my own
I fell
Backwards
Down
Down
Down...
And something died
And then I knew
I would never fall again.