deepundergroundpoetry.com
We Made Contact
That sparkling tension
attracting us like magnets
that are facing the wrong way.
Trying to be together
but there's no way to
let it be.
Because, all the while
there's a banging at the
back of my head,
where there's room for only
the most secretive of thoughts.
Amidst the confusion
I find myself standing
at a cross roads
of uncertain love
and certain settling.
Wishing that the spark would
turn into a flame and
burn down this small
settlement
of nothing.
Wishing that I could have my 4th of July back.
Wishing I didn't want to wish for these things.
Wishing... to stop.
So that I could walk down that path of uncertainty
and know that at least
I'm walking
for something.
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