Parenthesis

Passerby

tripping walking down stairs
tripping with what I want.
tripping, falling down.
fallen, lying on the ground
– his garment only, nothing else –
he wears a tired, aging face.

you can see his insomnia on his lips
and his lack of kisses in his words.
color seems to have run out of him
like one of those artsy black-and-white short films.

he may be laughing but it doesn't mean he smiles
– he pretends and acts, it's his job –
what he's best at. throw a coin
into the fountain of his secrets
and he'll give love away – not tonight.
the stars are watching and he blushes bright
while they lose all their bets.

his head is a non-rhythmic carrousel,
riding a horse around in circles,
chasing his tail in search of honesty,
honestly; he'll be staying in a hotel
on a separate bed from us
he's ashamed of snoring and feeling
loss – or lust; or both.

a simply never-ending game
– she makes up the rules –
you lose.
lighting fuses and lightbulb ideas;
lightning strikes at 12 to time travel to a past,
but whose?

your mind is a blank page you fill up with mess as you go,
clean up or live with it.
no more hiding for our little boy,
he's got nowhere to anyway. though –
I do admit,
they don't really care, do they?

and you try to score over and over again,
only to find you've been throwing the ball the wrong side,
but even against yourself, you can't have one.

so try again in vain,
for our entertainment, for our laugh to go wide
but even at yourself, you can't have one.

I've been using a price tag gun on your thoughts,
selling them for coherence;
losing in votes
– enhance –
take a chance,
try your luck.

impatience is a virtue for people who're done
and you're overdone, gone, having no fun
at all, at all my dear friend,
I'm having the best of times
and I want no end.

we've all got tattoos in the wrong places,
we try to cover them up with lies and false statements
but the only thing we're really doing is cementing
a way to lose ourselves through others.
fathers, mothers, brothers.
... sisters too.

it falls apart. like a domino puzzle that's gone wrong, everything falls on the worst of times – the best of times, that is. like bad movies with anticlimactic endings, you just want to leave. like bad cofeee, you drink it nonetheless.

you get up to leave.
fuck it.