a story, simple really
I swear it has a beginning
a middle, and an end,
although not always in that order.
Let’s start though,
where all things start,
at the end of something that once
meant something else but has now become this
thing, entity, purpose,
but I digress for it is a story,
I swear, that has a meaning
there is love, and fighting,
some drama and a loss,
classic frames of Lifetime stories
that still fascinate the minds of those
whose night stands are littered with romance novels
and Fifty Shades of Grey.
Our hero is naive, and beautiful,
the interest is broken and unsure,
and all the while I struggle to find the happy part,
it is somewhere in the middle,
not the end because that is obvious,
and well writing about the obvious
means I might as well write a how-to book,
and after writing about how to make a sandwich,
I’d simply rather bleed.
but I haven’t figured the change yet,
the end, if you will,
when the reality of this story ceases to exist
within the minds willing to read between the lines.
For the boy wasn’t really a boy, but a girl,
and no one is broken, I think,
except for the record in the corner
and the “t” tab on the keyboard
I hope it doesn’t end the same,
I’ll be disappointed,
because I’ve been searching for her,
for you, in reflections and windows,
I’m looking for the hero to this story’s song…
but the phone call changed it all,
and we’ve found the hero was here all along.