When the bough breaks

I found him swinging in a fresh breeze.

He was hanging from a dead tree.

-Told me to listen

-Asked me to kill him

Once he was done,

He wasn’t done wreaking mayhem.

 

 

Glassy eyes drained of surprise

He tells me with a settled smile

We’re doomed to chase that paradise

We’re doomed to live in crests and dives.

 

 

Prisoners of our own lies

Imprisoned by these mortal highs

To toss aside the smiles we find

To leave the highest crests behind

 

 

Because there at the edge

Where the sky meets the horizon,

-That’s where we’ll be happy

-That’s where we keep our eyes on

 

 

Discarding what’s in front of us

The next trough might just swallow us

That’s okay because it means

The        next crest will be more glorious

 

 

At least that’s what we tell ourselves,

Putting on our diving bells,

Tolerating shallow hells,

Existing on the carousel.

 

 

Milk spilled, time squandered,

I’m barely human anymore.

But I’m understanding more

Than I ever did before.

 

 

I had to shut him up

He wouldn’t stop smiling

The brand of persistence

That makes pacifists violent.

 

 

But then the branch snapped

Under the too-heavy human metronome

His grin evaporated

Again doomed to share this hellish home…

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