we never knew a life like this:
utter peace, silence like springtime,
ice surfacing the roads on which we scream,
traffic on the bridge from where you told me,
"I'm done looking for answers;
I'm done fighting for us."
instead, I cross a line and you hold your
own hand; my world narrows to a spattering
of rain on a windshield; the silos in the
distance reach as high as my failures and as
thin as my patience.
instead, I try to convince you that I'm not able
to die and you question why I choose to survive,
unable to fathom how living is not an option.
YOU ARE READING
To Be Determined
PoetryBook 4 of seemingly endless poetry (or should I say possibilities?) Some poems are real life, some are not. Think before you assume.
