it’s the way lightning leaps across the sky
like it’s running up as far from down as possible.
the way the music makes me cry and switch songs
and the way something needs to be written out
but refuses to leave its aching cavity in my heart.
it’s the failure i felt this morning,
and the terrible guilt i feel for keeping dried roses.
like watching a phone recieve calls when on silent, and
my lack of respect for things until they’re gone.
it’s how my whole life relates to music, and
many sighing strengths stolen by the lightning
accumulated in cumulonimbus glory and
dispersed in petrichor with informal rumbles.
it’s the smoke curling between my fingers,
out the window, and behind me on a road leading nowhere.
this is the only place i’ve ever been.
it’s treacherous and beautiful because it can make me weep.
i wish i could find my way out, but i’m resigned to being here because
i’ve chased the lightening across the sky until i could go no further
and i’ve found no end to anything to swore i’d never miss.
*second to last line, credit due to my friend olivia. (: