when definitely maybe began to sound like a real decision
and love until further notice appeared to be just right
and a fork through the tongue was the only choice left
I realised that I hadn’t run far enough and
more running was on the horizon.
the distance needed to be further this time
than ever before,
maybe a lifetime or
at least a season or two
even a bungee jump wasn’t out of the question
if it promised relief from
indecisiveness and hurtful silence.
both can become not just tedious
but alarmingly aggressive and violently explosive
until they self-combust in a shower of periwinkle
but there is always a chance of rain and lightning
and even a snow storm is not out of the question
where this sort of grey area is concerned.
Yes, fleeing the vicinity and
taking on a new persona,
possibly one with wings this time
seemed only a short fall of the tarot cards away
and it might save the lives of innocents
or perhaps those were just memories
casualties of the last war,
which only looks like having become this war
and each battle is fought all over again
until the lessons have been learned
or have been proven wrong.
Personally, I blame fairy tales
with their seemingly easy to understand logic
and deftly hidden meanings
that are set out to confuse us
and to lead us astray between the towers of trees
until all that is left
is the gingerbread house and certain death.
Better to stick with the mermaid
and dissolve into tears
and ultimately become foam
cresting a wave and
be on top once more
even if it is only for a brief time
at least I will see the horizon
one final time before the light fails.
© Sybille Sterk
Do not copy or publish this poem in any way, shape or form without my written permission.