You thought you were at an impasse,
a standstill. But that was just your heart
slowing down to acknowledge the pain
You don’t realize there are worst things
than missing the train, busting
your knee, the morning wasted.
Running from your past.
Drowning your demons in gin and pills.
You prefer a prescription pad
to a subscription to pain.
Widowed from your feelings.
You crave the next fix.
Anything to get you where
You look for a treasure map
scrawled in a dome of stupor.
Where the winds remain static
and the gravel never get stuck
between your toes.
You swim in a diluted river
by trees that don’t shrink or grow.
Nature weeps for the despondency of you.
I weep for the unlived life beneath you.