I carry this much talked about weight
once again,
like a catch of breath above my diaphragm,
it is difficult to get used to this,
like bags that never get lighter with time
and rich food you always leave unfinished
but keep ordering anyway.
I take the same route home everyday
and begin to notice things that
never before touched my sight
like which pavements accumulate the most puddles,
the regular accordionist's second favourite spot,
the time it takes for the bus to pull away from Sainsbury's,
and the number of steps before i reach his doorstep
depending on my mood.
sometimes i wonder what would happen
if everything ends and i never got off at my stop
and carried on
like a role i have never played before.
in life i have earned so much,
and lost more.
like the smiles i could've given my mother
in replacement of slammed doors and cold dinners,
like the virginity i shouldn't have saved for someone
who never saved his violence,
like the friends i would've kept but let fall out like
loose waste off a truck,
like the passion of my hands and my heart when i created,
like the happiness i scrapped as an end,
made instead as a prologue,
like the life the students from my school would have
that i chose to walk away from,
like the life i once chose to walk away from.
i listen to songs that used to play
as i dangled my feet out my bedroom window on the 5th floor
never really believing i could fly away from everything that
ached
and wonder if i would be able to take it now
if i ever felt such pain again.
i lost that too.
'don't change' she says, and we laugh
knowing it is easier for her to say
than for me to do
and wonder how much hurt i will inflict in the process
of standing still when the world keeps pacing
ahead.
sometimes i cannot keep up,
but life really isn't something i want to lose
entirely.
