to see my demons disappear.
It ticks incessantly
reminding
me that this whirring within my
chest
right at the center of me
is real.
This life is real, too.
Like stolen glances at
withering sunsets and
long strolls beneath banking moonlight,
we live for
the moments
we often forget because they happen in an
instant.
I don't want to leave
this life with nothing
but a broken watch
screaming
at me
yelling through my hair into my ear
that this life
is almost nothing,
almost over,
almost forgotten,
almost fraudulent,
almost anything
but real.
There is something more terrifying than dancing devils
in abandoned places
and it begins with the word,
'almost'.
He almost chased her.
She almost kept him.
He almost found a way.
She almost loved him.
They almost made it.
As I'm often told
in the warm darkness of night from no one
but myself,
"We live for love
or we do not live a life worth living
at all."
And I think
that is what my watch has been saying all along,
that being lonely is almost as inspiring as being loved
and that is what the ticking is for--
reminding.
Remembering.
Finally, understanding.
-k.p.b.
(To my "heart")
2/14/16
Sunday Afternoon
4:28PM
