The Messages

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The time dances along as we sing away the hours,
Striding down the open corridors of life.
We could stay this way forever, if I really wanted us to.
We could never grow up.

Under my thick sheets, the expression
“The longest journey is the journey inward,” is
Inescapable as I dream and envy those who have lived
Before of the lost America of love.

Here we are, dusting the streets where love and lust walk the line.
We grace the solid yellow processions with our nostalgic, angsty steps,
The must of four AM brushing our lips.

We are foolish, entering this journey of growing up,
Waiting for the fire to connect with out dreamers’ eyes.
Knowing, subconsciously, the only thing we will connect is
Nothing with nothing.

We giggle at how sober and bitter the ones who
Strive to in inspire have become, sending out their
Messages of “The Journey is the reward.”

Then it hits us,
Just how selfish our hearts have become,
But we don’t care. Still claiming the ‘ol
“I’ll never grow up.”

But we proceed on; climbing the time.
Owning seconds, minutes, and hours;
Entirely engulfing days; until we crash and burn.

But I will still be fighting for your autumn eyes.
I can only make my way to you, step by grueling step.
Each step, the nothingness will be introduced to a new life.
A life of journeys they’ll never want to take.





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