Getting over a city

I pack my strange objects into shoe boxes,

That were too big for my mismatched feet.

I find trinkets from forgotten years,

I watch the city become pixel grey drowning in the waves of heat from the tar roads fallen behind.

A place of rest, were I set up tent and hoped to have visitors...in a land I was yet to meet.

Visitors came and visitors left, some brought gifts others brought stones to my House built from scrap Glass.

This stanza is for those whom believed they had more to offer but I closed shop.

I received what I believed i could, and I love you for it. Good bye.

To those I forced to stay, I am sorry for i did not belive in your particular wants.

I know the old Terrazo will miss my strong salty tears, dehydrated from the only glass i downed.

The ivory plastic lamp that looks like she belongs at the wall street stock stops until I click the switch. She throws her yellow, proud; comforting that angst bubbling in my chest.

I will feel a certain burn in my chest like I should have belonged, but I know I will always know that I never wanted to go it right in. I needed my depressed coke and brandy, blue pea rolls, coconut water skating in a cracked cement basketball court. Crying while drinking coffee, while accidentally flashing my neighbours because who doesn't walk naked when no one is at home.

Mosquito net all patchy from me kicking it in my sleep, Blasting indian ocean after nirvana, hoping that hot water runs through that old shower head.

Good bye

Home

Xxx