from by Graeme Miller

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The sun going down
spitting past bars and parked cars.
At the edge of town
the fence clinked shut.

It’s a friday night
poked open by kitchen lamps
round culdisacs
like a campfire engrained in my eyes,
I’m reminded of what it must have been like.

The moon fades to streetlamp,
beaming down on parking lots,
heavily heaving with hurt.
Barely able to stand,
I'm reminded of the way things were.

I watch my friends grow up around me,
while I'm just the stubborn rust in their chain.
Trudge past potholes and bike tires,
I'm realising just how far along I could be.

Flood up my eyes with caution,
keep me firmly planted,
in these final moments.

Let it tremble in the window well,
just not able to get out,
just not able to.

Those frosted out pictures
recall grinning teeth -
the only call to god
that ever spoke to me.
And I miss that tired, giddy feeling.
I miss our desperate ache to be free,
because it still means everything.

Let it tremble in the window well,
barely able to see out,
barely able to.

How could I just let it all go?
With pink streaks blazing through clear skies,
shooting barrels of light into swollen eyes.
It's bigger than me now
and impossible to conceal.
Let me love.
Let me stay.
Let me heal.


from Tuskers, released September 5, 2016



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