Boarderline Love

As the years trickle past,

my blood thickens,

I can read your attacks.

Your glass wall of protection is cracking.

Vicious and juvenile, she

casts a lightning streak, a clouded fog

burning my eyes as she barks taunts

into reddening ears, I ache

to release one—hard—swipe,

one good crack

that you so deserve.

But I restrain the golden-glove

boxer within my throbbing heart

waiting for the emotional

beatings to stop.

‘I know she’s going to leave me,’

She’s the grandmother who bakes nails

into her cookies,

“I love you unconditionally…”

under one condition

I am her punching bag and her ‘sweet girl.’

I’ve lost count of how many times her barb caught

on my weathered heart and tugged

a little too hard.

I will always love you, forever

Riding the Lines of Reality

Systematically searching for the right connection

under hot condensation dripping off

the peeling ceiling

of 28^th St.’s station.

The bumpy yellow sandpaper holds back

my eager feet from slipping

to the electric track below.

The 1-train cascades past

plastering 30 year old grime

into my pores, filling them

with the long forgotten experiences

from those who thrived in these tunnels before. 

We accepting fate as a scheduled journey,

the 70 other people weighing down the platform

crowd the iron worm,

soaking it with their fermenting frames

and exhausted brains, impatiently riding

the screeching rail to their destiny.

My fellow zombies sit uncomfortably close

sparking my temptation to cast judgment…

BING-BONG

‘therapy’s over.’

Time to return to the surface

and recollect my old self,

shedding the subway-me

with every step I take.

The Age of Observation