Within The City’s Boundaries
This cityscape drapes and holds
us in perfect unison of our love,
while we hide in two silhouettes.
The lights on the distant streets
call us names and painful words.
I’ll cover your ears and hide your
eyes so nothing will get through
and corrupt all you still don’t feel.
That’s how we are able to live today or tomorrow–
because we are all more than able in this lifeless city.
We are all more than all those statues we hold closely.
We are more than the hollow eyes that still stare intently.
We are more than the secluded thoughts that cry lonely.
We are the ones who will never have the chance to go.
Just drift a bit closer to me tonight, I need to escape.
The warmth we bathe in officially has no reason,
–together we can avoid that desolate feeling for now.
Above our eyes there’s no more clouds to protect our contempt.
It is cold, I wish we could hold our arms in interlocking patterns.
I apologise for all the woeful attempts at being the one for you.
I wish that we could just breathe in our silence, not our violence.
I hope I can be there when you hold my heart above all the tall
buildings that we still cower before in the fear of being crushed.
The black paint is quietly dripping from the sky,
I still don’t
want to go home.
If I knew there was
the chance I could meet you
half way, could we just try to hope together?
I could keep you,
w a r m.
As the city sighs and we are regrettably distanced,
I hold it all inside so no other soul is able to see.
I look to the concrete calendars where the ones living
their lives cry for the chance to feel like life is worth living.
It’s not a puzzle, not a game,
there are more combinations
of life that we should observe.
I can’t see an end to this prison.
If these controlled circumstances of life
have so many walls, why am I keeping
myself infatuated with being consoled?
Is there more to the roads, the people,
the scenes in this city than all the blood
that finds the single chance to spill and
r u n
faster than before?
Will I be able to call
out to you when the
lines we place above
ourselves fall to ruin
as these empathetic sorrows of this
silent situation confines us to the city?
Destroying the only place we call home.
the city (This distance that’s between us)
breathes slowly and reveals it’s secret,
“I am no happier living here than you.
But I’ll (Is killing me more than you know)
keep holding on for the chance to see
Filed under: Literature, Poetry | 4 Comments
Tags: city, love, prose