Thursday

Thursday

Wanting to reach out to say these words and carry through

With this unsettled rumble in my will

To have you change your actions into form of movement

To correlate with the pittance of acknowledgement I have received

Amongst the silence shrouding the fractured beliefs

That the ghosts even exist in this hallway for me to have missed

You for something, to have wanted that which may have been coming

In the spring time, of those lines converging

Into a conversation in a driveway writing down the pebbles from your pocket

You could share with me in all of their shine and grime

And hopeful times that this could move beyond a phone call

And fall into a puddle of Thursday night resting

And waking for you to revert the naming of me as blank

In the pages of all the pointless stages

Of getting to where you will be at thirty

Without acknowledging me there with these phrases

Pronounced and shed out and make shift on the pavement

Not knowing the snowing is coming and these shoes are useless

To move through the fluff and tall might as well stay here and stall

Never learning proper names or elementary information

Fill out some other form to turn in to an administrator

Of recollection and failing to bind these words to mention

That you and I shared this time never creating the sandwich

Of these remnants scattered in the ice box

Of these stories kept under combination lock

And I know I need to wait and have so quickly abandoned

The smidge of hope you rekindled in the middle of my

Trying to forget another rejection pilled on with the rest

So now you ask me to in part a piece of all this to start

See saw of a girl cleaning out my cubby hole

With the socks of my desperation falling on the floor

For you to see the holes, to see where I never go

Parched for a kindness to prove me wrong