1:24 am . audrey
profess to find a perfect route
to escape the strange reality
of how a day in black trousers
& boots, has become the scar
across bruised flesh.

the perfect route is paved
by such frivolous means,
i look a fool by the end
i feel one at
my very best.

i wonder why you had to choose
this last week to suddenly make it vaguely known,
in that crazy twist of fate, a blending of fortunes,
your timing simply impeccable.

must you pause the first time i speak?

it seems quite surprising that i
take my demises better than compliments,
striving for things i'm still
unsure of
but sure that what i have
i do not want,
it is crazy.

eerie lights that pattern the station
it's past midnight on the platform
might be morning elsewhere,
stare down the tunnels
to finally find
my vanishing point.

nostalgia . uncertainty