Appreciating Gravity

Watching the memory of you swimming in my glass
soothes my loneliness, if only for slight moments.
When you leave me,
I drown in my thoughts of forever and never.
Dreaming of an easy out, I try (so hard)
to stay away from sharp objects, necklaces, and homemade remedies.

On stronger days, you can find me wishing on thunderstorms
and the sound that streams from my rusted air conditioner.
When the blade becomes dull from my skin,
I’m found, glazed, on the bathroom floor,
pining for the courage to push a little harder.
Because of a small hope
that hides in the far caves of my possible genius,
the butter of my arm becomes a piece of lumber,
splintered and stronger than normal.

I catch an artificial breeze from the fan
and pucker up for the pictures that no one views,
with the lips that no one kisses,
in front of the mirror where No One looks back.

It’s about that time...where dreams finally come true.
Where I see a light
instead of the constant dark that plagues my brow.
Where you notice that I really am genius.
Where mathematics, physics, and pure art finally come together,
ending the beginning while starting the finish.
I take no time in tightening my necklace and staring at my feet.
Using gravity, I fall to get high.
And I’m gone.
And you noticed.
And it was late, yes, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t count.