the walls say 'oh, sanctuary'

i breathe in earnestly,
thought of my lost potential and
understood those that wish to die young.
She told me, while driving into a cloud on the ground,
that it was too late to 'get back in it'
its routine now - that thing i wished for just a night ago.
And here, already, i burst into new territory and
'nice to meet you's.
How is it that nothing ever ends, but nothing lasts forever.
I accept loss in good and bad weather, I destroy
and create.
Its that feeling of "I love you, but I don't love you
enough to stop falling in love"
Its the fact that I've seen 20 seasons come and go.

I have selectively forgotten, so that i can be surprised
A new hand in mine, a soft shoulder, attentive eyes
like the tide like the tide

cats play on the ottomans, climb fake plastic trees
in a late night sanctuary someone called Vegas
where the restless rest.
Hobbes and Eno, black and grey
table tops filled with old things
and minds that run away.
It makes me miss Highland almost as much
as her spirited texts full of wishes.
There is the city, and here are the woods, though
something tells me I'm into something
good.