Deconstructing
my plans, being otherwise
meticulously laid out
thus showing me the futility
of planning things such

My thoughts
my patterns of thinking
along known pathways, running
steel rails, cool and straight
smashed coins derailing, how
and why, I chose to think of someone
at that moment in time,

Ideal thoughts
exist not, though it be funny
considering them to be real
warm to the touch, cold
unobtrusive stares, unknowing
unaware of my eyes following
her every move through this life
and past lives as well,

Not thinking of someone
the fact becoming clearer
all of the time, while doing so,

The illusion of me being alone
in this life, the lies that I tell myself
propagated by me and me alone,
giving birth to the idea
of raising my conscious level
to the bottom of her hemline,

My eyes traveling along her legs
ending up, my destination in the past
boarded up and lonely train stations
a lonesome whistle blowing
moving my heart farther down the line,

Deconstructing my thoughts
the parts scattered about, numbered
in letters and symbols
nothing seeming to fit together,
just as why my memories of her
seem to relive the times we spent
only dreaming of meeting each other

once again…

This piece is the work of Notthedane56. You can find a lot more of his poetry, fiction and humor on his main site Everything in and around Denmark and on his new blog My House at the Sea.