“LOST”

I walk lost
past cactus,
past the creak
of empty mailboxes,
past homes
I never lived.
I walk lost
into the direction
of a swollen orange sun.
The parts of me
I remember
are the parts
that have gone.

I look lost
upward into the blue
canopy, above the green,
above the chalky soil
that covers the flesh
of the fallen.
This grapevine
like my skeleton;
deep inside,
our bones yearn for more
than these round bodies
will carry.
We spin, we twirl,
we try to defy the odds
to produce
a single bottle.

I love lost
past women,
past girls,
past chance.
Deep inside,
I hear my cries
desiring forever;
demanding
the impossible.
Love hasn't won
once,
but still I play
my numbers;
trusting
in the random
draw.

I bet lost
on myself,
on talent,
on purpose,
on painting,
on writing,
on poetry,
on ART.
I know the odds are not
in my favor.
And if you are reading
this,
then I'd bet
they are even
less in favor of you.

I am lost
trying to find words
that escape me,
always,
when they matter most;
now and
at the end.

Love hasn't won
once,
but it's never lost
either.

narrative poem written on 04-15-2014 by: on mattkane.com
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