Metric

Every once in a while you just need an inch
Just the tiniest dewdrop, the smallest granule
Being torn asunder becomes tolerable otherwise
Burning alive inside becomes normality
But that inch, oh that inch
To have it, to hold on to it – to know there is more
To know there is something beyond plight
That is what plight needs to have power
And what we need to stay afloat
Without it, we are broken
With it, we are easy targets
Oh plight, give me an inch
So that you may take a mile
If you must test me,
Please, at least, give me that inch.

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Once in a lifetime.

I place my feet in my shoes, then my shoes in his hands.
Grabbing a rag, he asks casually:
“How is your day going, sir?”
“Fine”, I reply, grabbing a newspaper.
Far easier to ignore him while reading.
He says nothing else, for the duration.
Maybe once in a while,
my eyebrows, they raise.
Some anecdotes stirring some reaction.
All that’s missing is a pipe from my lip,
completing my ensemble.
But let’s just get through this shall we?
“All done sir”, is the last I hear from him.
I place the ground at my feet, and walk away.
I’ve lowered my eyebrow by now though.
We get on with our lives, and never speak again.
I can’t help but feel I’m missing something.

Maybe one day you will realize it was easier to be yourself.

Sometimes thing aren’t what they seem.
Sometimes things are darkness.
Enveloping, constricting, full of doubt.
Sometimes, things are like this.

Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.
Sometimes, things are brutal.
Truth can be a necessary evil.
Sometimes, things are like this.

Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.
Sometimes, things are nostalgic.
Romanticized by our poetic mind.
Sometimes, things are like this.

Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.
Sometimes things exactly are.
(No room for denying the obvious)
Sometimes, things are like this.

Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.

Sometimes, they’re even better…
But only sometimes.