Composition: Misguided Frustration

Misguided frustration . . .It was the same day last week.
You blame me for absorbing all that I see.
It’s The worst curse, and this curse is blessing me.
It’s What you told yourself out loud when you were proud.
The failed attempt at something more.
Untangling the things that I see in the bay window.
Don’t tell a soul what you stole, even though it was part of my soul.
They are on repeat, down deep in the street and all we can do is will something more for our combined ambient energies.
The variable, double you is time in Why do we see all that is made up around several dimensions of where we came unglued?
All that matters is that we put it back together and tether on something new to keep our crypt from repeating what happened four equinoxes ago.
When it almost landed us living in boxes. They trotted on top of us.
Now, even the score. I’m reaching for more, and all you have to do is be in this room.
Soon, it will amount to exponential momentum through time and space.

We will win this race.

© 2012, 2020, S.D. McKinley

By S.D. McKinley

S.D. McKinley lives in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia. He was born in the first half of the 1980's and grew up in Wisconsin as a young boy, then moved to Georgia when he turned exactly twelve years old. During teenage years, he raced dirt track go karts and played guitar. He discovered his current love for all kinds of art after his mid-life crisis at 25 years old. S.D. McKinley began writing books in 2017.

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