THE ANGLE OF BEFORE
The night only has a certain shimmer
when you look at it through the right angles,
when you twist your neck just right
for your vision to be able to absorb
the curious lucidity that one finds
in darkness
I have been broken for a while now
No one seems to notice, they
have seen me broken before
and this doesn’t look like “before” to them
I think it is the fact that I have
been able to put a decent costume
on “before” and paint its lips a
shady type of red, and take it walking
down the street as a care-free
man would, and paint a smile in its lips
so it still looks like before, but now just a bit…
different
And they so desire for before never to
come back, oh no, never to come back
they take these little structural mishaps as
a sign that before, before, before will
never be coming back. Oh no, never
But I know…
And this anger sits upon me like a mad giant
squeezing the air from my lungs
and the hope from my heart, along with
my desires,
Because I know…
That the night only has a certain shimmer
when you look at it through the right angles…