a Bench, a Pen, and These Words

Now you’ve walked away
But I’ll wander a while longer
My mind is still revved
Burning off your high-octane

My feet move the backdrop
While I imagine hypotheticals
Fantasy futures of nowhen
Days together that don’t stop

Foolish though, right?
Our time is special because
In part, it is rare
So why do I want days to become nights?

Don’t mistake my desire
You challenge me
Beyond existing measure
Insight, questions, wit I admire

Now I’ve gone blocks too far,
Fortuitously, to a nearby park
Poor substitute for our talk
A bench, a pen and these words

This is self-gratification
But when I’m alone
What other options are there?
Just intellect masturbation

It may sate the desire
With its own pleasure
Its not what I want
Won’t smother the fire

We’re letting our purpose
Precede our existence
In each other’s lives
So my fantasy goes bust

If I must acknowledge
Reality then I must admit
I’m happier with the few hours
Than I’m disappointed in their shortage

— R. Brockey

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4 thoughts on “a Bench, a Pen, and These Words

    • Thank you! Frustration can be a powerful inspiration.

      • in fact, sometimes, it can be too powerful. so better be careful. at least it’s good that you’re expressing it through writing. there’s a good start. :)

        • I hear that. I know that type of over-intense frustration.

          What feelings move your to write? Which do you find most easily become too intense?

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