I wrote this as a teenager …
Wavering, faltering and lurching on
Through space that no one knows. Black, white
But never red.
The rainbow stays no longer than meaning.
Shrinking, misplaced expectations, desire’s lost,
To the rainbow.
Rolling blackness, a burst of sound,
No satisfaction as the tears go by. Don’t touch me, I’m fire.
Go forward backwards
Wavering vibrations always remembered, pretending to grow past, living by the beat, holding by the hand each good bad moment, sunken in the colours
Of the rainbow.
Remembered to the time of that, not this.
I am Here—so why a There?
Wanting … but lost instead, achieving misplaced expectations.
How far is home?
Light years passing.
As distant as the dreams float through the beat
and the rainbow, seeming down but always awkwardly up,
Through the colours.