They Don’t Mean Anything

I don’t know what to do,

or what to say,

so I’ll say everything,

do everything.

In the absence of a plan,

I’m just hammering away

at this wall,

trying to break it down.


We thought we were building a home,

not a prison.

The ineffectual tears,

the sadness that never

meant anything,

or went anywhere.


On a bright and sunny

summer day,

you claimed you’d made

the ultimate decision.

Never in my life

was I more afraid,

but I guess they’re my problems.

I’ll deal with them

one by one

and I’ll admit,

I’m getting quite proficient

at doing things

without you.


Here come those tears again;

the ones that don’t mean anything.

I guess the grass is greener

and the problem’s far away

from your perspective,

but it’s still going to be

right where it’s always been,

if you don’t fix it.


One in a while,

I realize that we

don’t have to be

a savior.

So, I’m coming off my cross

and I’m not sure

what to say,

or what to do,

that won’t be destructive.


Ignoring all my intuitions

got me where I am,

but I have I been betrayed,

or played myself?

Did every wicked thing

that I rejected

find its way back in somehow?

You and I are fading

and life’s too short to fuck around

with waiting.

Backwards isn’t an option,

so I’m afraid

the only way

is forward.


HG – 2017

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