Series Of Endings Poem by Pasha Satara

this is it, a series
of endings, a series of doors
closing & locking from behind
closing & locking from behind

but don’t lose a tear,
that’s the way it is here,
smiling through lips that quiver
& moving along

it can be you
or it can be me,
it doesn’t matter –
absentee is absentee.

walk in, walk out, shout.
hang the “for sale” sign – it’s out

everybody leaves …

i’ve seen more one-way signs
& known more one-way men
& traveled more one-way roads
& loved more one-way times
than anyone should have the heart to do,
& so yah, i’m a bit chewed up
on that love muscle,
but no, i won’t sell out

i will, however, go gently into that good night,
leave the rage in a corner,
fill my eyes w/stars,
saturate my soul w/a rhapsody of punk,
bless my skin w/moon,
& never let anyone touch me,
inside or outside,
again

you took measured steps
to reach the deep in the blue of my eyes,
you shot through my veins,
& put your fingers in my brain…

no, i will never let anyone touch me again

Damn you & you & you & you

i trusted you

now all i can hear is the sound of an engine
driving in the opposite direction
of wherever i am, a series of doors
closing & locking from behind
closing & locking from behind.

a series of endings,
a series of endings

that never seems to end.