Epic Poem: Part Two

If you get any sleep,
do not dream of someone saving you from poison.
You will wake up
having forgotten how to save yourself.

“And what if we are walking
in parallel lines?
How would we know?”


“And what if you are dead?”

“And what if I’m not? Walk.”

“And what if I am dead?”

“Don’t say that.
What if you are?”


Potholes are malicious,
you know.

“Death can dance with both of you,”
she tells herself.
“Alert. Keep it that way.”

You must decide.
Pour every memory into your being,
a gluttonous high
of dragging nostalgia,
feast on the contents
of your miraculous brain cells?
Distract yourself?
Or wait?
Until you could die

from withdrawal or anything else,
drop a crumb into your gasping consciousness;
you have almost forgotten
and it is just hazy enough
to not destroy you yet.
Spread them thin,
like butter that you don’t have
over toast that you don’t have?
Your pet,
your favorite socks,
a bar of chocolate:
all are lethal weapons
at some point
to a broken brain.
You must decide.

When you start hoping
that you’ll stumble into him,
not over him,
tie your subconscious and self-consciousness together
and let them eat away at each other.
When silver tarnishes,
it, too, is unrecognizable,
but you have not lost your value.

She is standing.
must run on something.
only extends so far,
so there are stones to throw
and people to catch
and lives to live,
so walk.
Just because you planned for it
doesn’t mean you expected it.
Just because you planned for it
doesn’t mean you were prepared.

A big stick.
And the kitchen knives,
the ones
she wouldn’t pick up
years ago.
They’ll slice through bone,
but they are cased in leather.

He is hoping
that she is standing.
And every sunrise
is a short-range projectile,
stabs you to the quick as it
screams off its scroll of souls
still beneath its heat,
a post-office bulletin board
of who-have-you-seen,
never illuminating the desired answer.

Ocean shore ocean shore ocean
shore ocean shore
Envy them both,
forever reuniting.

Ocean shore ocean shore ocean
shore ocean shore
Pity them both,
forever forced apart.


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