When did I forsake myself
was it in the promise of forever
or in a single moment
yesterday
When did I stop listening
to the pounding beat
in my chest
and
the coursing in my veins
Why can't I make peace
with all my tomorrows
The dance is perfunctory
breathing has become routine
tunnel vision makes all things
gray
How does resolve become
resolution
To drown in mundane and
colorless melancholy
is settling
A. Lamb 4/29/2011
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