Here in the epicenter of everything
There is one lonely angel
And she waits for me
She is neither far or near
In everything she is everything
But still not quite there
And I’m not quite clear
Of her existence
I dream she exists
In all her brilliance
Taking the slain 87
To her
She sits on cornerstone
Blending in beautiful to the skinless concrete
She has a secret
One I know she can’t keep
One I know she tries to
My temperature rises
As I cough my fever doesn’t break
I am just learning
How much it takes for our souls to break
She comforts me
In a Boston skyline
Where clouds form over head
And the wind interferes with pictures
Today I feel sick
Tomorrow I will feel nothing
Coughing reminds me
I am living
Thinking I exist
Like the princess on the 87
We both gotta get somewhere
I am just closer then she is
To my destination.
I’m closer then most to my destination.
Jason Wright is the founder and Editor of Oddball Magazine. His “Jagged Thoughts” column appears weekly.
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