The Board Game

Sometimes I find words I discarded so long ago I wonder how they lasted. 

I discard. Disagree. Find fault with aspects of me

Turn pieces into a whole

And wonder if that popping sound is real.

It’s a new attempt at living and it comes with many breaks

It’s a new attempt at living that measures all the stakes

And fighting only loses grips I never really had.

Caressing only pets the beast I claim isn’t bad.

So, there’s a life still living whether I hold one rein or two.

And there’s a color worth creating that lacks any shades of blue

I was a primary piece with a secondary source

Slid into darkness like a swan dive off course.

Lucifer, or was it Dante, making levels my Beatrice?

Make believe is the telling of what is soon to be.

Trust me like that loss of electricity from the wind advisory

Because the human warning meant more than the breaking tree…

Before. Before gusts turned to dusts and walking to talking.

Dice the order and add dots to the Vegas shame

Nothing stayed there. That’s the myth of the game.

Nothing mattered enough to stay anywhere and once it spread everywhere it mattered even less.

Imagine. That’s the dust of us into the future.

It’s the most beautiful loss ever imagined. 

I’ll carry you, sure, I get lighter with age. But there’s something for learning the ladders, ‘preciating the shoots, riding big rock candy mountain boots… into the future. 

It’s a new attempt at living and it comes with many breaks

It’s a new attempt at living that measures all the stakes

And fighting only loses grips you never really had

Caressing only pets the beast you claim isn’t bad

There’s a life still living whether you hold one rein or two

There’s a color worth creating that lacks any shades of blue.

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