8/6/96 10:30pm
ah, god
I feel like I’m pushing against the air
empty hands, hollow, and holding back the wind
just slips through and blows past me,
leaving me behind.
trying too hard
trying to run so fast, I thought I was the breeze itself
hoping at least to maybe feel the wind’s resistance
hoping it would burn and keep me warm
heat upon my skin, looking to warm my bones
and that maybe I can catch her, the summer breeze
but she eludes me. I jump at the shortest draft
slips by and curls away
no heat, no warmth, no company
just running away from me to hollow —
whistle comes from my chest,
just blows right through,
through this — cavern
full of air, but hollow, like a ghost
I can hear her spooks and groans
not like an abandoned house
where the breeze blows the shutters closed, then opened
then closed again
but like a canyon
where she blows all the time
just flows and shrieks
and keeps dust in my eyes
I speak out to her, I try
I urge for the run
but she only carries echoes back to me
echoes of me
of me (of me)
more hollow I become.
empty hands, hollow, and holding back the wind
but she just slips through and blows on by,
leaving me behind
so, now, I feel like I’m pushing against the air.