this cannot be.
so i pick through my brain
searching through
the baubles
and the junk i've been meaning
to throw away
and i find
you
to pin the blame
of my tears
to the plaid of your shirt
with a little sfaety pin.
and when
i light my window altar
and send the airy notes
of my ode to the sunset
swirling to the forthcoming stars
i hope the sun is not setting
ceasing its glint on your little safety pin
but the wax runs down my windowsill
to the floor
and time passes.
~
apathetic towards the cold
of coming winter
but i know somewhere
that if the window does not close
the candles of summer
will still burn
and time will not pass.
but i am a fool.
time passes
and the wheel moves on
and my unsure legs
are keeping my mind
planted in its path
they can't keep me rooted here
because i have to go with the wheel
and not be crushed in its path
unwise.
but you
i leave behind
like my favorite pair of shoes
left in the dust
untied.
there is nothing left to do
but regret.
