A Durable Sole

That blue is the perfect potion of

a cheeky smile and scabbed up sorrow

Those eyes smile more than your lips and

they say a lot more than they do too

The stab they sting a room with can linger longer than you

leaving residues of unanswered questions

But

I hate the way they let it mold and rot

That poisonous residue of blue can kill and fester

the newborn skin of my confidence

It can rust away the bolts in my immovable convictions

By your blue light I am short and sweet, but no, in truth

I am the journey long and rewarding

For I am not the pristine vacation house

I am a hearth and toys on the floor with a lived-in smell

I am not the sharp, fleeting sweetness of factory-produced goods

I am slow dripping honey, thick and full enough to amble down your lips and quench for

I was made by thousands

I am not the golden cherubs and vaulted ceiling of a cathedral

I am the calloused and practiced hands who built it

Here you will find

Toughness that is delicate as a flame

That burns addictive and bright

Scorching your blue and saturating your face

with burnt blood

I am not the pair of shoes you will buy for pennies that wear fast with thin cheap straps

I am an investment with able, steadfast laces and a thick, durable sole

I am not the song

I am the rhythm

I am not the cigarette that you want

I am the air that you need

Don’t litter my streets with your residue

You leave after a weekend away

Take your empty blue for

I am the green-feeding rain

Don’t come here to try and make a getaway out of me

I’m not a stop on your route to somewhere

I am the road

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