Black Hole

rushing, waiting
it goes
by like
pictures you
leave behind

hiding out
in the
wide open
but still
I can't touch the
sky, feeling
like a
bird in
a storm

searing the
tears of
streets, sleepy
eyes in
the morning
holding coffee
cups close
with the
growing light
coming on
like an
angel on
my chest

yawning a
rose gold sunrise
thinking about
the past
anymore, it's
like a
black hole
I don't
want to
get to
get pulled
back in

they say
fire is
time that
burns, fake
flowers on
windowsills, what
a shame

all I
have to
do is
wait for
the right
moment to
see where
it goes

spring up
higher then
they do
don't settle
for that
path with
the least
resistance

I'm waking
up breaking
myself in
like an
cracked and
worn shoe
time and
moonlight
are both
reflective to the
bendable experience

Sarah Mahina Calvello