September 19, 2011 at 10:36pm
[it's not a real mystery, see
i can't carry that casually,
and actually, i can't quite care]
i cant speak for everyone, but the time has already
come and gone when i grew sick
and tired of promises becoming loose ends
to be snipped and tied back and forgotten
amidst layers and layers of extra armor,
yours and mine, leather and feathers and
heavy metal plates. sagging, weighing,
dragging, pulling all the threads of fate
seams. . . .
we've all already grown weary with whispering,
laden with secrets and hinting at these very things,
that we won't take much more, but we're met with
smiling eyes as we raise our glasses to toast to the next
cheers to our loose change.
cheers to our ability to discern.
cheers to learning from our mistakes, time and time again.
cheers to ripping it all
seams . . .
and maybe we've all grown to love the way the patterns change,
the loose shapes vaguely reassembling into likenesses we can
understand and befriend, into caricatures of lovers and exes
and partners, to make amends, only to tear it all down again
and again with the lies we'd known we'd all tell since we started.
we should've made ourselves clearer. we should have sacrificed.
at least our cups are full.
cheers to spilling our fortune and fame.
cheers to the waste.
cheers to laughing it up and lying in the face of fate.