This is all that’s left. At the end of the day, getting older leaves me okay with mystery. Disappointed so many times, now claiming there’s something to this subtlety. Squint your eyes, hell close ‘em if you’ve got to, and imagine. Except I can’t, it’s all repeats from this childhood.
Is the magic that keeps us alive? Is this for what 5pm arrives? I promise I’ll stop asking questions if you promise not to find any answers.
It’s all in the phrasing, don’t you see? I can taste the dark bitter notes in this beer I call apathy. But I like it, I really do! These acquired tastes I’ve curated for my edification might just smell like desperation. But not if the light hits it just right. And not if I squint, keeping my eyes so tight they just might turn this enchanted privilege into a trailer for a movie I can sell tickets to.
This movie will contain phrases like, “Never better!” or maybe I’ll just look at you in the eyes and smile. Don’t comment that my eyes are wide shut, don’t mention that these lips are pursed. I’m happy, I really am! It just doesn’t look like what I thought when I was younger. That’s the thing about magic though: It’s just around the corner.