When you’re good; they don’t ask.
No one comes to bang the door of
a happy girl, all dolled in smiles.
And then. Right then, and there
is how she crumbles; unto
the canyon just below,
toes, having just
danced the edge.
Delayed onset of; oh, how I loved you.
When it was good, so good.
Fresh-faced and all eyes for a future
we had only but to make ourselves.
And now, with all that had ruptured
I have but another case,
of losing someone,
of not wanting,
it to be,
My place in the universe
is not at your side,
and oh, how I feel
lied to that this
would be easy.
The conversations that are had here;
only so the walls know.
The simultaneous upspeak and
validation, where it is not warranted.
For critical dissent is a lost art,
and not feeling like shit is the new aim.
Oh, you fresh-faced youth.
How little that you know –
about you, about anything else.
Here we are now together in
the place where we all think
best of ourselves.
My dearest; I will not
bind to you. Lest you,
bind my arms as you
do it will be all to keep
me from riot, from