The Earth Is Not A Cold, Dead Place

"I was out on the town so I came to your window last night.
I tried not to throw stones, but I wanted to come inside."

I rolled home with the windows down and let the
uncharacteristically cool air flow over my work-weary body.
The above lines were sung through my speakers and
it kind of made me
smile.
I know it's all hype and over dramatized songwriting,
but there was a time when I actually thought that way.
When I was in college I threw myself down like a hot beat
and created some epic scenes that deserved
accolades.

These days I am stoic.
I pictured myself outside of our Brooklyn apartment
staring up at the window in present tense and feeling
that empty yearning.
Yearning for something that never was and never would have
been.

The only realities are the rubber and the road
and the hum of the engine beneath me.
Life is mine now.
I am the captain of this potentially sinking ship.

If I found my way there again I know
that I would probably just keep on going.
The past has passed me
by.

This fresh ink on my shoulder reminds me
that silence has the loudest voice
and we will never
speak
again.