Untitled and speechless

Can you scrawl tomorrow on my wall in permanent marker?

Yesterdays have me in a chokehold.

What do you want me to say?

I spit out apathy,

but my heart melts in cinnamon candy,

why don't you see me?

Why do I

armour myself,

cacti thorns and all?

Fluttering on wings of optimism

have proved a fatal decision.

Now I make pinky-promises with the dawn

and break them by noon,

sorry.

But I'm not blind anymore.

I've said that before, when I bathed in white lies--

A full moon and a new year opened my eyes.

As tennis shoes squeak against a tile that leers

as fireplace embers bleed into red roofs

as summer-sea-skies flash dazzling smiles

I see now, God.