Lead souls...
I am running now with this hole in my foot…
Blood sloshed teal stilettos.
Clumsy hands led by a clumsy heart,
This wound of mine; self imposed…
If only she weren’t afraid of phones,
Maybe somebody should call and ambulance?
Good Samaritans whisper on the corner;
Like schoolgirls with their daggers in your back…
Causing irreparable traffic jams on your way to working it all through….
She says it’s no matter anyway, I’m always late…
Going to show up late for your own funeral her parents always laughed.
But, flashbacks are for the movies;
we live in the white light of our near death experiences everyday…
Does anyone ever really die under the auspice of self-actualization?
Or is it only a concept, like your happiness…
I guess I’ll never know when I keep running marathons…
With these feet leaden down with bullets from my own gun.
You will catch up with her at the finish line,
And when you do…
Tell me how clear that hindsight really is, won’t you?