For those who won’t walk over subway grates.

By Wil Gibson


I used to be younger.

Back then I died a lot.

Now I fear it less,

D    E    A    T    H,
   
am more conscious
of my          actions

I don’t sniff fairy dust
anymore. My      Peter
Pan past left me   more
Captain Hook these days
(ya know- I chase monsters
-clocks scare me- I’m told I
forget how   easy it is to fly).


I  had
forgotten
that                     being

stuck

is more about      being


patient,

moving slowly,
breathing
that  frantic movement     only
gets you                   more stuck.

I used to be younger.

Back then I did
all of the      drugs I could find
and tried to      kill myself
a large     family     of      times.

It was difficult to find the time
to do both         of those things.

I managed to find the time
to do   both of those things

and walk more than    half of
this continent.

I wish I could
remember more of it but my
memory is a trailer park that
I               k  n  o  w              I
should     stop writing about.

This   morning
I put too much
sugar      in my
coffin      watch
these        bones
shake.

When my phone vibrates,
I know it will be one of a few people.
When it isn’t you, it is a swollen fist,
when it is a swollen fist, your eyes soften.
Thank you for having soft eyes.

Teach me about trees,
how and why
they grow.
Show me how trees move.
Show me where they
are trying to get.

Tell me about the moment you
stopped walking over subway grates, I know you say you do it because you’re
afraid of other people’s mistakes.

I stomp over subway grates,
manhole covers, and street doors
when we are together and say I do it
because I like fucking with you,
but the  real reason
is   when I’m alone

I walk around them too.

I’m too afraid to be
brave without an audience.

I guess it makes sense that
we pour blood on strangers
and call it entertainment.

Everyone            wants to see
bravery and blood on display,

some are just               more
violent about it than others.

I used to be younger.

Back then I died a lot.

I have runaway issues
and worship strange
gods. These gods tell
me I am not worthy,

that I don’t matter enough
to stay anywhere too long,

These gods tell me no one could 
love me.

My gods tell me that
love and pity are so similar
that they fool even the brightest minds.

Makes me cry and pray on my knees every morning just to
to face the day’s future failed  try.

Has me cry and pray on my knees trying to deal with the day’s current failed try.

I used to be younger.

Back then I just             died
whenever the thick grey sky
pulled in too     close for me
to see                 my way out.

Cut ties with
moments and memories
and people so I would
feel less like a burden.

I don’t feel like a burden
here,        in these words.

I feel             useful,
I like feeling useful.

I feel             brave.
I like feeling brave
(even if it is just
for an audience).

I feel             young,
I like feeling young.

I don’t want to die.
I’m too old to   die
                anymore.