Anniversary of a Van Ride
One never recognised at its inception;
The perfection of my latent perception
Of my ‘best laid plans’ or my intentions.
The celebration of recollections, only
Serves toward my angry introspection.
Tears of frustration, mental retaliation;
Relation of situation to circumstance.
I’m left staring at calendars filled with
miles of empty space; empty purpose.
Thinking of all the would’ve, if only we
Could’ve, because we should’ve known.
The impossibility of forgiving, and yet
pretending we’re still living, when reality
Is closer to simply reinventing the clock
While losing its true face in the new fog.
Of all the lives I’m tricked into living, or
Forced to accepting as part of giving,
Like each one before it; I’m admitting to
Grasses greener before you weren’t in it.
My knowing you felt the difference, but
Playing into your practiced ignorance.
To lift your burdens of consequences,
endured of chance, and due of necessity.
Now, written together, is a book I barely
weathered, filled with empty pages of all
these empty days of empty dates and my
Wish I’d known before I said ‘it’ll be okay.‘
Phoenix
12/1/2019
