durable

I see you in dreams, though I know you can't see me. Your eyes that set into mine in my slumber cast too far from these wishes and obsessions to find me even on your worst night. When sleep finds you I am sure I couldn't be further from your mind. So I pursue these strings of words and ill conceived sentiments. So I speak to a shadow that would not deign to fall upon me in passing. I always abandon the battle to make ready for the war.

It is easy to miss the point. It is easy to get off track. Ruled by furies, teased by fate, clarity doesn't linger long. The things I ought to have said, the things I should have done, these verses that rely on reasoning in reverse. It is a path laden either way with broken mirrors and shattered bottles, bad luck and drunken terrors. All the bleeding is beside the point. Work can be just as hard when it only ends up in error.

Nothing is settled until the time arrives for these timely departures and long anticipated ends. Life keeps scuttling through the dust and fragments, ghosts keep struggling with their chains. I dream of you, startling and divine. I dream of you, that ocean that has all but devoured my stony shores. I no longer even pretend that I ever knew you. It is only the busy work of bothering to acknowledge the durability of my failures. Knowing the banner beneath which I will finally fall, that allegiance I will cling to as I am claimed by some dull grave. Knowing that some dreams will always outweigh the world.