Especially Sunday

You! You! You-you! You!

A broken chorus on display

Amidst a beautiful charade

If I might put on a skin so bold

To find, to whom this honor’s owed?

Fait accompli; Pas de deux

Tell me why the world spins so, and

     Why it keeps on spinning through?

You! You! You-you! You!

You-You! You! You-You!

Encroach upon my pinion

Gnawing me deeply to the core

You! You! You-You! You!

Deciphered my vault’s code

Implanting thoughts I’d never known

You! You! You-You! You!

…said we could only ever be and nothing more

Than that of friends, than that of friends

Yet still, even now I can remember, your inspiring assent,

That nod from heaven, even now I can so vividly recall,

 How easily came the words to which I spoke: a last gasp toward a future not meant to be, a brilliant summation draped in a suffocating plea

                  “The best there ever was, the best there’ll ever be”,

oh how we could have had it all, how we could have had it all

You! You! You-You! You!

…Held back a secret; you kept inside the truth

You ignored the passion within; you stifled the premise of that kiss

You made me then a promise; a vow rendered mute

You betrayed both our tomorrows, denying hope it’s chance for bliss

Plodding forwards the day would lose its coherence.  Motion atrophied in conjecture, suspended by the murky visions depressions cast

Disabling freedoms left me there to beg upon a staring sky, one that left me starving—emaciated and prepared to die

Many mirrors would then find me wondering. I bottomed out yet would be left forever replaying the many why’s and how’s lost amidst an ethos I’ve found to be paper-thin. Yet still, even in the here and now, as I gaze unto oblivion, try, I must continue, to cultivate honesty from time’s dust—ever bending for a primer to steer me clear this jaded scowl I regretfully still trust.

You! You! You-you! You!

You-You! You! You-You!

Every day and Sunday

                       Sunday especially

Weeks became the hours

Hours defined the day

And the seasons soon to follow

Would eviscerate the humanity found in me

You! You! You-you! You!

You-You! You! You-You!

         Tattered, torn, bruised and worn,

                  A wall was built; a wall was formed

But break it would, it would break

         As yet, you possess me still completely; you’re imprinted upon my every waking state

I was left there to find forgiveness within a shackled skin, bound to tortuous freedom, I knew not what I would find in likelihoods and manners.  All probabilities and potential withered awry in the daft discoloration of a destiny denied.

From points untethered, clustered yet non-sequential, and beneath the bellows of the banshees, as they wailed their laments aroused, remained alone, self-perpetuating comforts left to find therein: of misery and sin, misery and sin

        

And here, the last of the tread’s been worn,

 To the spot and to the core,

                       Porcelain tears upon love’s blacktop,

A prelude and continuance of a hoar unstopped

You! You! You-you! You!

You-You! You! You-You!

Every day and Sunday

                       Sunday especially

You held back a garden

     Because of the potential direction

              A single seed could bring              

    

You let the dim lights darken

One by one you turned them off

before the power would be lost

     before the power would be lost

and each year upon this hour

     your regret blooms in full display

where what-could-have-been in you towers

              On this, a silver-lining day

Stop on over to D’Verse, where Natasha’s been up all throughout the night, serving up some great poetics for this week’s Open Link Night.  I may be a day late, but certainly not a buck short. Cheers.