Surface Tension

Someday ‘I’m sorry’ is gonna stop falling from the sky
and landing in my chest like it belongs there.
Someday I’ll find words that don’t make my mother sad.
maybe then I’ll be more than just a scribe of poetry,
maybe then someone will call Poetry
and I’ll know they are calling my name.
But that is someday…
This is a weeping moon,
drawn too close to a love it was never supposed to have.
This is tightrope apprehension
snow fall feeling,
tesla coils bent and burdened
bright light roots too far rotted too far reaching
too far too far too far away.
right lies useless.
left obscured on this dingy of life expectations –
temporary safety.

I am a water walker, sinking
hydrothermal expansion,
broken, cracked down the center,
thunder without the means
of making my rumbling heard.
I am not a terrorist,
but this is a threat
a plea
a wish
a demand
maybe this is only one option…
one significant firefight left on the edges of sacrifice
even if perpetrator is victim
and potential was accidental.

Geothermal magnetism does not explain
why my wandering hands find only molecules of oxygen and hydrogen,
I can’t stop staring out to sea
and thinking of freedom these featherless wings will never have.
I used to say ‘I love you’ like a skydiver
but too many horizontal impacts have left the letters disjointed.
The man on the moon
knew all about this poverty,
about foredune satisfaction swept wide,
taking flight on green insistence that crumbled
before it completed its rescuing.
I suppose you won’t see this as an explanation
for the grand canyons sitting between my words and you.
I’m trying to limit my collateral,
can’t you see that?

I’m so tired of always being the bird
everyone expects to fly
even when you’ve only ever seen me perched.
Stop lecturing me about loyalty
when its only ever been known to me as stationary,
never actively pursuing or protecting.

Someday, anger is going to stop analyzing my heart
for weaknesses and finally destroy me.
Someday, greenhouse gases
will prove that we are less heat and water than
movement and fear.
Someday…
Someday I’ll learn that scar tissue
isn’t the worst result of pain
when survival means too many apologies
and ‘I love you’s come with too high a price.