Wondered why
September 29th 2009 02:36
I wondered why, while the cars drove by,
Something had started, but I forget what now,
Somehow, the string had begun to vibrate and;
That is a bell you can not unring.
I dragged my hand along the bricks as I walked down the alley,
A doorway of light in front of and behind me,
I kicked a bottle top and it hit the opposite wall with a chink,
Sprawled graffiti stretched out and merged with the darkness,
The darkest part of the dark alley being me,
I started to cry, while the cars drove by,
Someone had ended, but I forget who now,
Somehow, the pale had been emptied and;
That ship has sailed.
My fingertips gathered cold off the bricked walls,
My fingertips gathered dirt and dust and dew off the bricked walls,
My fingertips generated warmth from the bricked walls,
The city shoaled in dawn light,
Reversing twilight while the cars drove by,
I either hadn’t slept, or hadn’t slept enough, or perhaps too much,
Just tired,
Weary eyed.
Walking out through the door way of light, I stopped on the footpath and looked back down the alley,
Sprawled graffiti stretched out and merged with the far ended light,
The skin on the tips of my fingers tight, and brown with dust and alley blood,
My mirth began to boil deep within my stomach and rising up and straitening up,
I wondered why, while the cars drove by,
Where the cold mood had come from and lasted just a short time,
An emotional tourist,
An awake emotional dream,
Awoken in the middle of a city scene,
Fingertips unclean, the photos of briefly where I had been,
And weeks and weeks, searching the city, streets and streets, across the city,
I couldn’t find it, that cold alley,
Sprawled graffiti stretching out and offering brief passage to melancholy,
Passage back to the only time I’ve ever felt like me.
Something had started, but I forget what now,
Somehow, the string had begun to vibrate and;
That is a bell you can not unring.
I dragged my hand along the bricks as I walked down the alley,
A doorway of light in front of and behind me,
I kicked a bottle top and it hit the opposite wall with a chink,
Sprawled graffiti stretched out and merged with the darkness,
The darkest part of the dark alley being me,
I started to cry, while the cars drove by,
Someone had ended, but I forget who now,
Somehow, the pale had been emptied and;
That ship has sailed.
My fingertips gathered cold off the bricked walls,
My fingertips gathered dirt and dust and dew off the bricked walls,
My fingertips generated warmth from the bricked walls,
The city shoaled in dawn light,
Reversing twilight while the cars drove by,
I either hadn’t slept, or hadn’t slept enough, or perhaps too much,
Just tired,
Weary eyed.
Walking out through the door way of light, I stopped on the footpath and looked back down the alley,
Sprawled graffiti stretched out and merged with the far ended light,
The skin on the tips of my fingers tight, and brown with dust and alley blood,
My mirth began to boil deep within my stomach and rising up and straitening up,
I wondered why, while the cars drove by,
Where the cold mood had come from and lasted just a short time,
An emotional tourist,
An awake emotional dream,
Awoken in the middle of a city scene,
Fingertips unclean, the photos of briefly where I had been,
And weeks and weeks, searching the city, streets and streets, across the city,
I couldn’t find it, that cold alley,
Sprawled graffiti stretching out and offering brief passage to melancholy,
Passage back to the only time I’ve ever felt like me.
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