Rattled By Failure
We're not rattled by failure now.
Statements slurred, terms are altered.
The air stalls as we venture out of key.
And the words turn so vicious
as these stakes that were so small gets torn in three.
Unlearned parts, a constant ringing,
a smudged stamp on your hand and a vacant stare.
Fed our hearts on these fantasies.
Now these hearts have grown brutal from the fare.
You pit art against reason.
Though the two aren't opposed.
This recurring theme contaminates your dreams.
We're not rattled by failure now.
Absolutes and autumn deadlines,
they just pass like a fever. Like idle dares.
See this through. See it ending.
You retreat to go dye your dulling hair.
Standing mute as a starfish
as the bright lights and music start to recede.
It consecrates your dreams.
We take failure for granted now.
They maintain our feet on solid ground
while it clings like a cloud of bees to me.
A halo of sand in the cuffs of faded jeans.
To wallpaper our room with rejection slips.
To slowly wet the circumference of our lips
and admit the coldest form of defeat.
It was all just a dream.