the trick is the illusion of love
and the expected happy devastation
it will bring with its kisses.
behind the scenes,
dusty and tired and myself,
pervasive in passion for
what's next, no matter what.
slight of hand, end of songs,
stolen from plain sight of life,
leaving the soul searching.
that feeling flees,
the first chance it gets,
like a broken deer
into the forest of our fears,
thinking the future is forever.
hate to break,
we shattered ourselves first
like a car windshield
so save our lives
from sawing it all in half.
the key is sticking,
staying for the rough crowds
and the failed attempts,
through it all, especially the good.