Victory Theme

Cold morning by the woods and a hangover blue sky
My brother was with me.
We walked in silence and still your name was on my lips
The crunch of leaves saying everything I wasn’t,
He turned to me, knowing what was on my mind, and said “You are looking only at yourself.”
He’s right. The memory of your face is a mirror,

so I was in love with my reflection.
Were you in love with yours?
I exhale, trying to remove this truth.
I inhale, bringing this sober chill inside.
I exhale, and my eyes met his,
“You can only see your breath when it is cold. What does that mean?”
His eyes remind me of my own.

someday we will slip into my dreams:
we could tend the dark cornfields,
tame the horrors that stalk me
or
to the very beach I arbitrarily idolize;
or pressing the limits,
the end of time, the start of my life -
I’ll live it over again, yes I would choose that
a better chance for the world to know my name
to build a frame that fits my fantasy
how picturesque; a sunrise. I wish for anything.

circuit repetition; songs of praise from pothead poets
from the heart of our mouths, i speak with soft precision
following the dreams I’ll fail to attain,
sleeping in the sweet promise that the world is ending.
wherever I go, I reserve the right to change my mind
and forever I will escape at the very last moment.

Sober. I’m awake, right?
Sober.
Hey. Today. I’m here. Truth.
Eh, accept. Accept?
…
Accept? Sober.

Don’t accept it, nope. Why?
That’s obvious. Sober.

Same sentence, different punctuation.
No exclamation points this day,
at least until I accept another way.