Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Over the Colors Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Tuesday 9/19/2006 12:44:00 AM

Maybe I'd just been waiting too long for a reasonable situation. There were sails in every direction, but the wind didn't care. Where we were going.

The feeble way we walk into each other's lives is no match for how hard we make those exits. Pulling soft on the stem of the cigarette. Gentle lips sucking the last threads of disease from that torn gingham dress. So many dorothy's looking for their the red sequin shoes. The ones we were promised would undo everything that had been done to us.

Am I wrong? In this empty purchase. Swaying with the grace of the bottles as they shuffled to the thump of my footsteps. Down the aisle. To register to loss.

Under the sheets. Where we could never go. The friction too much. Every pillow weighted. All heels clicking. As the witches laughed.

At the yellow in the bricks. The wizard whose curtain couldn't hide.

How wrong he was. About where we wanted to go.

Over the rainbow. After the storm. Deafened by he colors. It's not like I haven't been here before. I click my heels and recited the chant.

But it doesn't know. It doesn't know any better than I do where it should take me.

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