Downcast Little Heart Shower

Nobody knows.

Your downcast heart

makes the mark

we took that night.

Walking the crooked path

jumping over cracks,

carved into stone.

That night,

were we both alone?

Or were we together?

Searching for lost treasure,

in caves named for

the way they change,

the question begs,

have we found it?

And the little bird says,

“Not yet,

don't you forget

exactly what we've come to get

out of the lives we live.”

Giving me the verses

Spitting sound curses

following the linear tree

that holds specific

to my memory,

alone.

Let the sky rain

and I'll cry,

No, scream it,

into every rain drop

I seek

images of memories

my stomach grabs a hold of me

and tells me,

“I thought,

the cracks were sealed,

and the pipes,

fixed,

so what's all of this?

The river still flows

into the valley,

and it won't be long

before you can't remember me.

And I know,

you know.”

And yes I do know,

that I am the littlest soul

trapped under the soles

of his foot.

I'll just have to accept it,

under overcast skies,

take it in,

accept that this road

has come to an end.

But then again,

hope could descend,

We are not lost,

just starting again.

Author's Note

This was another poem that was sitting unfinished, mixed up with all of the other documents on my computer, and supposedly, I finished it last night while I was a liiiittle bitty bit drunk. And turns out, aside from a few grammatical errors, I kind of liked it. So here it is.