PULLING THE SHADES UP | Poetry by Dah

 

There are deserted moments
from the past, notes from
different worlds that we backtrack
in our journals.

Then in the suburbs of our minds
rumors of lost love 
and the days turned cloudy
for so many reasons. 

There’s more that is not ours,
something in our heads, 
strange voices, endless chatter 
something we can’t identify, 

something bone deep, 
deeper than truth
deeper than pain, like a tremor

somewhere inside this wreckage
of slipping plates.
So we rise in the mornings 
pulling the shades up

to see that the sky is as gray 
as the years that have passed,
and our lives
have become like strange cities. 

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