tomorrow’s memory

there are hours

even days

where loneliness

is a longing

away from the echoes

of old voices

and ringing

of today’s tones

beyond harsh critique

and empty eyes

past going through motions

to exist in time

I’d rather be alone

than among these false

fake interactions

words falling from faces

held together in forced smiles

and stiff upper lips

I’d rather be lonely

than speak

into a megaphone

still not be heard

for the wind

to rustle louder than

my deafening screams

and the rain

to drown my voice

I’d rather fall apart

than stay together

held by bubblegum

and popsicle sticks

in constant fear

my pieces will crumble

at the opportune time

for everyone to see

I’d rather be empty

than fill myself

with the boiling anger

you want to pour

down my throat

to dissolve a hunger of hurt

I’d rather be all this

but choose to be none

opening my hand instead

in relinquishment and

taking up a pen

to write it all out

for tomorrow’s memory

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always for the taking

in the quietest of moments

a faint breath of yesterday.

hot at my neck

it burns the thin skin.

pressing its brand

of that was then.

drink in the now.

the once was-lers

dream in reverse

of past moments

and previous haves.

the now-bies

gulp back the sunshine,

stand in the circle

of today’s good fate

and spin.

arms outstretched,

eyes shut tight,

and hair swept back

turning round and round

until drunk and giddy

on the elixir of life.

always for the taking.