22 days ago i was ready to key the lock to my heart’s gate
the ones painted gothic,
like the architecture of cities of long lost
in fog and gas lamps.
i was ready to admit that
the misty figure at the end of the alley
would simply stay frozen in the dark night
and then materialize the minute i exhale my last puff of smokey hope
that smelled like tobacco and musky,
brumous,
heavy... pain,
and felt lonely like talks with my reflection
bony and pale, like years before when my heartbeats stalled in desperation
but,
change has always been the kind of thing that stalks you,
pounces-- like a lion--
bites
down on those ailments you endure, just hard enough
to where,
the blood poisoned by
negativity rolls out willingly like a tumbleweed( whose only purpose is to travel a distance and stay intact; because what does being rooted really do to benefit you?)

Change this time took on a body… tried on toes and fingers
grew hair on the back of its forearms
it grew eyes of glass, glistening
like marbles on the pavement being flicked about for pocket change.
this renewal looked like nostalgia hidden from my nerves by amnesia
like puddles after a rain
only there to prove
something was or had or is
whether it rain or love or a feeling too foreign to be cultivated or named.
nevertheless
it came
swept me up, instead of under a rug
and it whistled while it worked
sang songs and blossomed into something that would be so much easier to digest
if it were animated.
it was wispy
and true like the words spoken by grandmother
who believes you can see the world better from a stage
or surrounded by roses
Just 22 days ago i would have said happiness only comes once
but everything has changed