Poems · writing

Pools of Disconnect


I saw this and realized there’s a poem here somewhere. So here goes nothing!

Singing under the pink sky
You think the world is your Golden Globe
But there’s days you’re here, there’s days you’re there
And none of it feels even remotely like home

You buried your tears under the smoke somewhere
Thought standing out could make you stand in
But you buried your hopes in an empty parking lot
And belonged to nothing while you were raring to go

You whispered and the streets lit up
But those days now seem so far behind
When even those purposeless sounds induced loving touches
Now there’s nothing but wild fire

There are places you thought you’d find love
And you entered shady deals with the same sad smile
Thinking, this time the mask could come of
But all you found were wardrobes full of elaborate get-ups

You strung fancy words in a row and thought it was sexy
And wore diamonds and pearls and laughed out gaily
You thought mascara and powder was touch-up enough
And happiness was just a word in the dictionary

You mingled and drank and danced and sang
You thought transience was utter nonsense meant to be abusing
You picked your way through a line of disgruntled men
Found reasons to fill your heart with stones

And when it all ended you stood back alone
You saw the smoke coil through the morning light
It was biting cold but nobody to share with
You became the outsider of your own life.

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5 thoughts on “Pools of Disconnect

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