Inter-textual breakdown

stopped
at the last road sign,
my town sleeping peacefully
behind me.

a twitch in my guts
words heavying on my shoulders

all things unsaid
drizzling over the rooftops,
rolling down the pipes
sinking into the grass
behind my father’s house.

I’d run if I had where to go.

all promisses said
how I’d call more often
how I’d remember your birthdays
how I’d take care
vanishing in a purple haze.

“all things in and out
of this world,
crumbling, colliding
in my back yard”

all things said and unsaid
rendering, reviving
on the back seat
of my car.

I’d turned arround if I had where to go.

July, 2012

(sequence from “The Burden of Time”; May, 2012)

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