A piece of my childhood died today
-and-
I'm still staring at the sky
waiting for the stars to return.
[They must have grown weary with the monotony
of
astronomers and hopeless romantics.]
Chalk it all up to experience
and a tiny glass, no longer half empty.
Waiting for the red.blue.red.blue.white.light
to tell me I've gone too far this time,
but it never comes.
And I can't tell if I'm more relieved or disappointed
in knowing I've given myself another chance
to fail.
Smoke floods the window and I can't see
through all this water.
But I keep going, hoping for the worst.
When it comes down to it,
this much pressure is necessacery
to open my eyes once more.
A piece of my childhood died today.
-and-
I'll never forget him.
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