It’s the difficulty of telling the truth
It’s every bone in your body telling you to run,
Then freezing when you try.
That can’t be returned,
But seems so beautiful
Because it means you’re not
As broken as you thought.
It’s looking at the train tracks longingly,
And getting on
And going to work.
And work seems like an affirmation.
Church bells that have damned you
Still sound like hallelujah.
They can take salvation,
But they can’t steal the beauty of the sound
Finding the thrill in a tiny apartment,
Building a shield out of patterns
Trying to tear us down.
We’ll survive this.
We’ll look back and laugh
At our starry eyes,
Our blurry photographs
That we thought were artistic
At drunken poems written on blogs
That no one ever read.
What now seems overwhelming
Will look precious,
Like a tiger from a great distance.
We’ll forget the teeth,
And only remember the brilliant colors.