Sunday, August 21, 2016

The History of Storms

there are thing that cannot be known
by those who do not a know


so gentle 
seizing of all that was once innocent 
once sweet turned sour in the unknowing 
that can never be known
unless we were there
we were not

there is a softness 
a sickness there 
one turned malignant


one longing for cure 
but not knowing how to ask

there is always a way to ask
there isn't

there is a table there

one flipped time and time again 
in a breeze 
disguised as soothing 
as knowing 
as invisible as the wind


ruffled your hair
that time

the thing about air

about wind 
about breezes

is that every one needs it
even as it cannot be seen by eyes 
focused forward 
in a war no one enlisted for 
none the less 
no one can win 
because that is not the goal 

burn it all down 

in the ruin of it all 
the temperature risen so high 
it calls for emergency rooms 
for evacuation
for oceans 
moving in the wrong direction 
shots fired
there are always shots fired

condensation has no choice 
it lands on our faces 
a failed attempt to wash 
something so dirty 

there is no right answer 
there is no next time or tomorrow 
there is only rain and questions 
only windows 
forced open 
and and paperwork 

only debris and broken boys 
only answers not asked for 
only band aids where surgery was required
only questions we will never know the answers to

truth no longer resides in your tongue

your heart turned detritus 
turned vengeful 
cloaked in revisionist history

there are things that cannot be known 
answers that were never questioned 

a fish that took on to much air 
found it was unable to float 

decided fuck it 

if I drown in my home
we all drown in my home

despite the wet
it will all burn
the flames will burn it all

there is always
air to feed the flames