Where do they come from?

I’ve got to go too far

now knowing I cannot

cannibalize the bar.

I find myself within the knot

of thoughts of how our stars

crossed paths and then did not.

I did not need another friend.

Dead end.

–

You needed comforting,

but I was late and left.

I felt the shuttering

implosion shoulder heft

against the door it stings

of sins your father left.

You penned

every last loose end.

–

Well love is just a place

we come to visit when

we overcome the pace

of weekly cycle spin.

And while you ran the race,

you could not get in.

A rip you could not mend.

Again.

–

And then you flew into

the wild unknown of blue.

Had I imagined it?

Or was that a bad dream too?

Had I imagined it when

your heart was made of tin?

–

I’ve got to go too far

now knowing I cannot

cannibalize the bar.

I find myself within the knot

of thoughts of how our stars

crossed paths and then did not.

I did not need another friend.

The end.

Tags: poem, Poems, Poetry, reflection, Reflections, writing