interstitial

what capacity do I have
let it all run out
sand through the hands of a man
i'm dying of thirst
for some 
the pieces fit together
nothing has ever been easy
streets paved with golden
it's the sunsets of places
mesmerized 
each a character of 
be your own 
own your being
at peace
is war all there is to 
now, at the crossroads

here before me a familiar

how to fucking live this life

a wave of the deepest 

what if anguish and longing

for what might've been

too long, i live in this

twilight

moments most vivid

the interstitial consciousness of

it's all gotten too much, too complicated

matters of the heart

i am a fucking disaster

the exclusion zone

thousands of desolate acres

in the middle of the irradiated

forest grows on 

impervious to knowing

what harm hangs in the air

the only way to clear

everybody, get out

sides picked and 

waiting in this little clearing

the animals alight and 

then bounding on broken

limbs are strong until they

aren't we, can't we

struggle on forever

peace may be

illusions of lost chances

pangs of an imagined

future worlds crumbling

in nowhere but your own

mind the gap between now and then

before or after

only existing in your mind

what feels tragic

to me

is invisible to the earth

outside of 

you own 

your own

heart and mind and soul

but

acceptance and control 

do not align

as is 

repudiates

should be

denies it, 

absolutely.

so, where then

what then

is left

i am not right, nor

is anyone

everyone 

just is as is

they are

i am.

a single truth

is my folly

hoping to arrive at

something that will 

make it all make sense 

please

all i've ever wanted was answers

something to calm

something to soothe 

something to

help me understand

but, that's just

it's all too big

too close

you're zoomed in and missing the fuller

picture a future

where does it feel right

what's left in this life

in that imagined 

willing yourself to anywhere 

other than here 

in your mind

you can fly away

a butterfly fluttering by

in and out of the shadows on a 

late summer 

afternoon sun beaming 

and we retreat into the shadows

curled on cold stone

find the floor and holding on

until the next setting

of our sun.