As A Snowglobe World Meant For Breaking

I wish we could open our eyes,
To see in all directions at the same time.
Oh, what a beautiful view,
if you were never aware of what was around you.

And it is true what you say,
that I live like a hermit in my own head;
but when the sun shines again,
I’ll pull the curtains and blinds to let the light in.
 
 
"Marching Bands of Manhattan"
– Death Cab For Cutie

I want to keep a dozen sunrises in my pocket.
Really.
What appeals to me is a cross-country road trip,
endless thermoses of coffee,
the sky all bright, then tangerine, the pure fire, then purple and blue and black.
I want the soft music I just discovered to melt through the speakers
in the car.
The road smooth.
The world quiet and snug.

I worry about what I do to people.
I don’t even mean to do anything.
Somehow, I enrapture people.
Why?
I haven’t the faintest idea.
I am both clumsy and crass,
with nary a romantic bone in my body.
Somehow, I still have those
who eye me with longing.

I could really puke, people.

The more I want to be left alone,
the more I am sought out.

I am stuck between pages of heroes and heroines,
stories that are unreal.
It has to be damaging, you know.
When no one out there resembles
my Byronic Hero, for God’s sake.
 

There is no right or wrong,
not here.
Not today.
Of course I want to obtain that languid
form of love that leaves
every senses tingling, awakened.
Of course I want that bond that
is unbreakable.
Of course I dream too much.
I don’t want to settle.
I don’t want to be afraid of being alone.
I don’t want codependency, or regular dependency, at that.
I want to know what love tastes like, feels like,
smells like;
i think i used to.
no longer.
 

I am getting impatient.

I hate waiting.
I can hear those nails taping on the desk.

The clock ticks slowly, painfully.

I’m supposed to enjoy the ride.
What kind is it,
left with only me and my self-loathing,
and rainy days?
Yellow rainboots.
I want to stomp on my reflection in all the puddles.
That feeling winds through my bloodstream
like elusive smoke,
shimmering,
changing form.
What is it like to be rocked to sleep
in a boat on a calm ocean?
Emerald, sapphire, turquoise, purple, black.
Water that engulfs.
water that soothes.
water that exists as a substance,
different from you,
but made up of the same things.
How I’d like to sift my fingers through it.

 
When you’re fighting the current, you forget how to live

 
I remember a certain summer storm.
Wisconsin ones are so beautiful, really.
The sky was smoky,
the rain was warm and demanding,
the trees whipped in the wind,
and I felt free.
I was content to watch the sky vent its anger at the Earth,
and it was incredible.

I feel trapped by my past.
Everything is holding me back, holding me down.
Frightening memories keep my self-worth in doubt,
which I cloak with a beguiling smile.
 
Sometimes I want to put on my tennis shoes,
ten o’clock at night,
and run on the gusts of wind of late summer.
just run.

  – AKM