Waking Up Alive

A Poem

Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash

liar, liar —
oh, you know the old rhyme
that stands at attention
every time
there’s something
amiss

and there are beautiful notions (beautiful notions)
with nothing but uncertainty (uncertainty in motion)

we say we collect these words,
and we lay them at the feet of gods
and hope for some retribution at attention (at attention)

but it’s a faraway world
with nothing to show for its assets —
and then we tumble down
rabbit holes,
all the while
hoping
for something more

that dopamine rush at your fingertips —
it crashes and pummels you and knows you
(oh, it knows you the way you are)

and to heal a brain —
what does someone have to do?

and to heal a heart —
what does someone have to do?

(i walked the lines of your words
and cast my eyes to the sky
and sighed)