This Is How It Is

And this is how it is
sometimes

I close my eyes and I miss you
when the light finally leaks through
I still miss you
but the you I speak of is not just a person
it is a place and it is a thing
filled with emotion
and marked by a time that my heart cannot escape

and this is how it is
sometimes

you know I live for the escape
somebody has to
in this world of straight lines and sharp edges
predictability rules the day
before finding familiarity when the sun sets
it’s the only way to get lost somewhere else
just for a bit

and this is how it is
sometimes

amid the roar of a thousand strangers
all I hear is a soft whisper
though the soft whisper of one
is like the roar of nine hundred and ninety nine more
yet I still can’t hear you
perhaps the crowd is too big
maybe you weren’t there to begin with

and this is how it is
sometimes

if you were to scan across the horizon
your eyes are bound to see what mine see
examples of what I could be
definitions of what I am not
and a fear that I missed my opportunity
to be on the pedestal with my peers
is there even a spot meant for me

and this is how it is
sometimes

kneeling at the edge of the bed with my head down
only looking up to make sure someone is listening
I can count my blessings
and realize why the dominos fell the way they did
in God’s hands I sleep at night
hoping for more
forcing myself to believe that there is

and this is how it is
sometimes

in the book is a bunch of pages that wait
for our footprints to make them turn
we can write our desires on a single page
with no guarantee a checkmark will follow
but sometimes our list lines up with another
allowing us to share a page until it rips
using tape to prolong the inevitable

and this is how it is
sometimes

I felt free
to do and to be
the person I saw in the mirror
staring straight was never so simple
some call it invincibility
that’s what I called it
I was invincible

and this is how it is
sometimes

do you ever stare at the ceiling
while you let your mind wander
up and down the walls and the items in between
pictures and words that tell an old story
a different life that doesn’t feel real anymore
because we all audition for the role of Pinocchio
and let history make a fool out of us

and this is how it is
sometimes

the last ball on the pendulum is the real hero
swinging out to the left before coming back in
falling out to the right and returning again
only hanging around for a split second
never enough time to get comfortable
more than enough time to know it wants to stay
holding on to let go

and this is how it is
sometimes

I imagine this all passing
being able to look back with a laugh
finally standing in front of the crowd
talking about the other road
and the streetlights that never went on
to illuminate the signs that were not there
leading me to a destination I never knew about

and this is how it is
sometimes

holding on while letting go is the only way to hold on
the doubt will be swept away with a broom
fear will be washed away by the rain
finally a clean slate with a glimmer of hope
my dream will reappear on the other side of the window
others were made
now mine will be too

and this is how it is
sometimes

I am not the only one
who stubbornly looks for a needle in a haystack
who stands alone in the middle of a hurricane
who thinks about the way others think about the way they think
who worries about things they cannot control
who wonders if they got left behind
I am just one

and this is how it is
sometimes.