we used to drive.
for no reason.
other than.
the hope of new horizons.
I remember trees.
and laughter.
and cheddar bacon.
potato skin chips.
rolling back from.
mountains on.
a donut that conquered.
route forty.
strange I met her.
the night we.
visited.
what it’s known for.
been twenty years and it’s hard to see.
what all the madness means to me.
bumble and snitch and bandersnatch.
time moves forward but I hold back.
whipping the willow, trying to flow.
past what is real and what is known.
is it the drugs or just a bad sack.
peanuts and penny whistles come to attack.
waste all the apples and make me a meal.
find a fine flower with petals to steal.
thought I found love but it’s all an escape.
these are the pies that memory makes.
you were in this house.
we shared those friends.
even though it’s over.
the memories don’t end.
a dream, a theme, a rotten smile.
pain without ceasing,
journey without miles.
I died for you.
I remember.
waking up next to you.
and thinking.
this is where I am supposed to be.
forever and ever.
amen.
but.
it is not to be.
for I am too broken.
and barely alive.
and you are the same.
boundaries thin.
boundaries thick.
it does not match.
alone is better.
influence too much of a strain.
on a soul already burdened.
by consequences.
the world and the words.
do not stop turning.
but joy cannot be given.
it must be won.
in the corridor
between the asphalt and the sky
Mr. Crap and the 100 Word Stories Podcast
June Faramore 