A Few More Steps

Street gutter in Old Town Stockholm, by Bengt Nyman via Wikipedia

It’s me, the out of mind one, more than likely.
But just this once more, unlike all those
other times when I didn’t push SEND
or wrapped the messages in so much thin metaphor
it looked like a confused, opaque mantle
to everyone but me, I hope you don’t turn away
as I raise my chin and burning cheeks and then
scurry back into the shadows.

Seems my time’s growing short, bodies falling around
in some sort of how-to for writing an itinerary
to the complete darkness, when it’ll be okay to forget
I was worth a conversation.
I don’t have time for the old obsessions,
the past mistakes of diving head-first into puddles
that looked sky-deep and as cloud-comforting
as a bed upon which an angel would keep a side open.

I get it, there are no angels, no companions to serve
as wingmen on that last trip…and fall. But maybe,
just once more, you might think kindly enough of me,
the good side of me at least, to walk there
for a few metaphoric steps, a couple more smiles,
where we can say “See ya,” and I can drop this
in that shallow gutter to float away with the rest
of those thousand thousand words.

Been a while since I cranked out one of these. But the “whiles” a growing sparser and this just happened. Must be the time of year.

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