Wally-Mart

I am a wanderer of your paths
resting my heels in your footprints,
breathing the same pollution you did,
twenty-some-odd hours previous to now.

I had my spy snag a look at you
as you walked through the automatic doors,
so I know where you walked.
I trace your steps as I whisper your name.

I pray to a God you don't believe in
to give me the chance to catch you again,
just so my words can have ears to fall on,
just so my tears can have eyes to witness.

You carry on as if unscathed
but your silence echoes your broken pride,
laced with the shattered hopes you once had
for something you never cared enough to invest in.

The burden of reliving you burns in my bones
as the aisles become father away,
and the doors shut on my reminiscence,
reality reclaimed in the hot summer night.

It's a building with no sign,
like your heart with no love,
like my faith without compromise,
and our time with no hope.

I wanted your arms to be inviting,
but they never were, were they?

Freckles

Your hands to the sky,

you reach for the moon, 

fall short in the stars

and then throw in the towel. 

You're only as good as your next lie, 

calling the shots and taking the names, 

you love this kind of control

when you can dictate all emotions. 

As your promises fall through, 

I count my blessings, 

because being bound to your word 

would cost me my life. 

I honestly don't care enough anymore 

to give up a damn thing for you.