Yard Sale of Thoughts

Play Pretend, Sometimes

A pair of kicks below a metal slide.
Did my son lose his on the ride?

I watch the world close their eyes,
swing wide, freeze tag,
take the next bribe.

Why can’t I try to compromise?
Truth for some, but for me lies.

Beyond the space of distant forces,
woolly trees, more lines than leaves.

Faith, and fear, and time conceived
in the fuzzy forest of maybes.

I am lonely from my divorces,
the parts of me I’ve had to hide.

The seesaw doesn’t work with one,
but nobody’s gonna put their weight down
on the other side.

Without a friend,
I can only play pretend, sometimes.

Cover Art: Macabre Gallery Michael Hutter

Annahstasia “Believer”