turn around

you’ll find what you want

bleach or black paint brush strokes delivering your excuse

conditions deciding how you move forward

entertained by lapsing memory stories distilled down to a single purpose

to relieve guilt

campfire laughter erupts from recollections of near-death drunken nights

morning comes and tears fly sideways, reminders of locker-room terror found at the hands of a stare which led everything astray

i ended up whisking away any sense of innocence i could have sensed before you walked my way

at least, that became the story

everything was just fine

i blacked out the gold after being told that the hand i held would melt and meld with dreams delivered and awoken by nightmare screams

forcing me to stir

stranded on a balance beam without the ability to focus

admonish what came before

funnel to a pinpoint why you’re here

face forward

keep walking

be near