Happy Mess.

Speaking of reminiscing,
I've been walking through tornadoes
for quite some time now.
Blinders on, playing the pilot
but really I'm so fucking close to
losing my grip on that wing.

You wouldn't believe it now,
But I once owned a glass dove,
Humble in presence and stature.
I threw it as hard as I could
Just to see what would happen
when she hit the ground.

The most thrilling moments
Were in the final millimeters that
Separated the glass
From the warped concrete.
You could almost see it flatten
Like a raindrop,
Consumed.

She shattered.
Shards must of have caught my chest,
For I began to break down.
Shocked, I fell to my knees,
Glass streaming from eyes,
Slain by that silly little bird.

As I laid on my back,
burning with regret,
a beautiful red dove,
elegant and proud,
perched herself on my chin.
She whispered second-hand
motivation and apathetic
love themes into my neck, and
that was the closest I ever came
to being happy.