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Hallway Glances
There is a certain thing about it
You can’t put a finger on it but you don’t doubt it.
And when it hits it's like a train.
Your then riding that thing you can’t explain.
And the tracks meant to take you away.
Are not going in the direction they were laid yesterday.
But they keep telling you it's okay.
From nowhere the voices say.
But there is something familiar and something strange and something about it you just can’t explain.
It's the addition of color, she says
that nobody thinks they see
blind to the eye but not to the mind
or the bold lines that set themselves free
vivid blue rains from the clouds in black and white
and the smell of oceans mist rises from the tide
a beachfront memory bleeds red and gray onto the sheet
while the canopy backdrop shifts beneath her feet
upon observation many pathways arise
unfathomable connections in blue, brown, and green eyes
the patterns of memory mimic patterns of sight
to one person color shines as brightly as black and white
as the artist struggles to paint in lines
we can't help looking at the image they comprise
and when the finished product stands before us
it's not her life I see, it's mine
I wish I knew what went on inside
Cause I've seen the videotape records underneath the green pools; glassy eyed
When the come to the surface
Streaming down once they break free
The mud clouding my conscience never mirrored such a sorrow
Loneliness, left unattended, forgotten but not gone
And replaying tomorrow
For an audience that's fallen asleep at the wheel, the burning rubber, tire tracks
Crash and stand up just to collapse
Pressure building the bends won't let go
So if it's fearful, dark and unfamiliar like the other side of my reflection
Cover my eyes but don't stop whispering
Or cover my heart but just keep on smiling
Replace the broken image with its unaccounted for masterpiece
Like diamonds from coal but still cold on the inside underwater drowning slowly rescue ropes weren't long enough
So drag me down if you're losing grip I'll pull back
The water is only getting colder
It wasn't my fault
But I'm right here with you
It wasn't my fault
But when it hurts I'm right here with you
And all I see is the surface and the light ripples of blue
And all I see is the rest of the world and you
the train station; a man falling asleep in the corner
the open door closed shut halfway between
burning down and moving forward
time frame lost in wooden desks and office supplies
the cabin hurtling faster while the copy machine churns out life-stories on burning papers;
the forewarning
the meaningless meaningful double sided sheet of copy paper we've heard about but only dreamed of one day seeing -
- separation
-the looking glass
is it a smile or tear streaked face behind the lens-
- inversion
-who are you to question it
confused, betrayed or satisfied;
but that's hardly the case based on our inhibitions
and you've been guessing the wrong question for quite some time
Your curving shape, it calls to everyone.
A perfect par-a-bola is your form,
And yet your love I never need when warm.
When I’m with you I always have such fun.
I’ll stay with you I’ll never let you run.
I’ll take you with me to my college dorm.
I know my love for you is not the norm.
I need you more than sky, or snow, or sun.
I wax my skis before the winter chill,
And stow them clean and close beside my bed.
I’ll never let them be defiled by Jed.
If silly sonnets make your soul feel ill,
Then suck it up and read Sir Sidney’s stuff,
He doesn’t fear that fruity, frilly, fluff.
My teacher chose me to read a poem to the whole school, she didn't specify which one so I read this one, She was expecting something deeper.
I’m lying awake in my bed, thinking about you and how i know we’ll never be together, and about how much i hate myself and how tired I’ve become. I can’t sleep, and i’m sure i’d feel better if i did, but right now my mind is stuck in the present and the past.
Any thought that passes through my head feels distant and fake, and lingers only for a second before disappearing as suddenly as it came. Earlier today i was full of grand hopes and fantasies for the future but now they have gone. Anything happening beyond this moment is now an impossibility and a lie.
Like my thoughts, every inch of my body feels drained and empty. Not only am i tired in the sense that i need sleep, but i sleep and i wake up and i still feel the same. I struggle to remember a time when this wasn’t the case, and that thought is so unbearably crushing. Only thinking of you, or rather your absence, is worse.
Even without you I rarely feel truly alone, as i genuinely enjoy my own company, but again right now everything, and everyone, seems so distant. The silence, broken only by the birds outside heralding the onset of the dawn, was once friendly and comforting but now feels cold, vacuous and threatening. The crack of light through my curtains serves as nothing other than a reminder that the clock is slowly ticking.
I look in the mirror, hoping that even in myself i might find some empathy, but it hangs there like a vivid, hollow portrait of someone who once knew something, trapped in a moment that has long since passed.
I stare into his eyes hoping for a glimmer but there is nothing, just a blank shell of a man staring back, cursed to forever look upon this world knowing that he is not i, and i not he. Only once i realise this do i feel anything in common with him, and for a second the loneliness almost dissipates. I look away, not able to hold his gaze for a second longer. The atmosphere thickens and i’m drowning again.
I’ve become almost resigned to the fact that i feel this way now. I just want to lie and learn as much as possible from it because pretty soon this moment will pass, just as his did, and this will be no more than a memory to be kept locked away, safe from the world, only to be dwelled upon when this inevitably comes round again. Then, and only then, will i stand and face that man once more.
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can i just add that the "you" that i talk about is not a specific person but more the idea of someone, so please don't ask who "she" is
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