.I like to pile my intentions
up high, where I can see them;
so far up that they stick out
above the rooftops, visible across the city;
up so high they touch the wind.
This way, I can see them
wherever I am,
and I am always in their shadow.
I like to pack up my sins
in a bag made for weight less heavy.
I keep them like prized posessions,
and re-visit them like dear friends.
I take them out
to tell them my secrets,
and of my secret plans.
They know my pain because they
are my pain, and I am making
them a shadow.
I like to have staring contests with my dreams and ideas,
as they sit there, stacked up like a pile of books.
They are demanding
to be opened, touched, or tried.
When they become too big,
I file them away with my intentions
(shadow forming as they are).
I keep them from the view of my broken
memory, for fear that the old
will swallow the new.
I was lying, you know. I don't like that I do any of these things.
|photo from weheartit.com|