Fonder

The gods don’t listen anymore.
The gods have changed.
There are no gods.
The gods don’t care.

Move on, nothing here to see.

A face.
Doling out generic advice and drugs.
The soundtrack in my head.
A large marriage hall, and that which was lost, and found.
A feast, the likes of which were never heard of before.
Monsters and sprites.
Insecurity hovering, but safety in the moment.

Safety online.

Vanilla milk, before brushing.
A plastic gag.
Several teslas, and an old house next door.
Transporter.
Rebellion, but safety in the future.

Vadakari. Second hand smoke.
Bathroom doors without latches.
Being grabbed by the ankles.

Dealing with the honchos. And the monkeys in safety suits.
Move along, nothing to see here.
A river.
A lie you believed in.
A hope that betrayed you.
The friend who fled.

The library.
A simpler man, a kinder man.
A lie called progress.
A lie called hope.

A call. The winds whipping around.
Probably an I’ll-have-to-take-this moment.
Weary.
Awkwardness.
Maybe someday?

Horizons. The faintest trickle of blue.
Across the oceans.

“And this time, don’t come back.”