Is a pendulum
I’ll be fine.
My eyes tear bloody holes:
Holes in her face.
Holes in her heart.
Holes in all the wrong places.
For no fucking reason they do,
For no fucking reason do the superman-style lasers of
Drip from these unfeeling sockets and soil the layered newspapers that line my skull.
And for someone that thinks they know everything
The frown on her face is a hole in my universe.
And for someone who wants her to be everything
When she is not
It tears down the walls.
These paper mache walls,
Like a pre-kindergarten volcano,
Stolen from the porch before the vinegar could ever hit the baking soda.
Who would take a volcano?
She took the volcano.
And I don’t know how or why, or what I could do about it, even if I knew
But I do know that,
For some reason,
I and She exist somehow in tandem,
Somehow in unison;
Like a two person bike,
I am falling fast towards the ground
Hoping that somehow by sheer force of will
I can overcome gravity for the two of us.
And I could right this bike.
Even as the rubber runs away from me,
As the sound shoots through my ears:
That great pendulum’s brawny swing stops the movement,
Stops the fall of our bike,
Stops the air that supports us.
And it leaves my heaving chest
Pounding in her dry cold breath
As the only thing that supports this bike
Stopped in space and time.