lover that may be

lover that may be –

lover that may leave –

lover, i don’t know

that i even believe

this love that has been painted

could truly be real –

perhaps inevitable cynicism

has tainted my lonely heart.

–

i haven’t managed to

voice this thought

to those who are real,

so i’ll confess to you,

lover that may be,

that while it has afforded me

a momentarily pleasant escape,

shoveling sweet stories

of happily-ever-afters

down into my belly

has left a bitter doubt

in my mind:

that a lover who knows me,

accepts me, delights me,

and commits to me

simply too much

to expect from life.

–

yet it is silly in its own way,

lover that may be,

to imagine every marriage

a falsehood, every home

built of impossible promises,

doomed to fail.

–

what can i say,

cynical, lonely, bitter, silly?

it is hard to hold a dream

in one’s hands day after day

and never crush it.

---

Taken from “Lover, Don’t Leave” by Citizen Shade. Originally written 05/06/23.

by degrees

because life is often

a series of cycles,

with slight shifts

as you live each day

and dream each night

&

because you are often

waiting to arrive

somewhere new,

bursting with possibility

and free of old chains

:

you can sometimes

wake up to find

that you have already

made it to the place

you had dreamed

of being.

haystacks

all my dreams descend into searching, as of late.

 

little girl lost stars as little girl losing:

there is no single thing touched by my hand

but it disappears into a void once my attention shifts.

i trekked across an endless college campus

that i might recover my sadly crumpled car;

i inspected the contents of multiple train cars

that i might locate my burgundy blouse;

i clambered up staircases and through tiny doors

that i might exchange the phone of a friend for mine.

i always walk without support,

though the worlds hold shades of friends and strangers.

 

i always wake without success,

shuffling to the bathroom to find

someone who still looks like me staring out the mirror.

she knows why she’s dreaming of these lonely fruitless quests,

but is so weary from them,

she lets the idea of finding what she’s really seeking

slip into the ether as well.