Street Signs on Abandoned Roads

We’re brilliant minds stuffed with static and told to keep to ourselves.
I’m surrounded by tiny pieces our dissonant brilliance.
They bounce all around me, daunting, like the threat of a decision.
Cement pumps through my blood because I can see,
us paint our beautiful souls into a staind glass syphony,
colored with our powerful eagerness to learn
but then shatter it with violent selfish words.
We’re brilliant hearts pumping hopelessness and an artillery of fashionable insults.
We’re teapots overflowing with frothy rejection and high school insecurities.
We are so selfish and so warm.
Tapping toes and wasting ink
We’re furious with social nausea and fight the urge to scream out to everyone around us.
Tired, we read and sleep, read and sleep
and sleep and sleep…and sleep, barely surviving the waking hours.
We’re brilliant souls enlisted to find solace in isolation,
beautifully failing our way through spirituality.
With beautiful toes and beautiful arguments,
we smash gracefully down stairs of expectations.
I personally choose to trip on flat ground for entertainment.
with a child’s propensity toward destruction
I pirouette onto and out of good ideas.
We are the beautiful wide eyed faces of tomorrow,
We are a swimming pool of doubt on the days when we are not blindly trusting.
There is a zip-tie on my imagination
and it tells me to hold back when I get dressed each morning.
There is a cross bow at my throat every time I challenge these stuffed bra isolation tactics
I cross my legs and tap the air, I take my pen and press it firmly between wincing lips and hope my point blank ink suicide will finally penetrate this negative electric mentality.
We’re beautiful dirty hands, enlightened with playtime and doused in philosophy.
and we dance adoringly upon finally coming into contact with each other
but we are afraid of being hurt by one another
So we strand ourselves like…
street signs on abandoned roads.
Our happiness is boiling at our fingertips and seemingly just out of reach.
We are lonely beautiful dirty brilliant selfish lovers. We are unfinished and
unstoppable.

– Courtney Klink

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2 Responses to Street Signs on Abandoned Roads

  1. Marla says:

    Lovely piece! I am 47 years old and this still completely resonates with me. Thank you for painting the truth on your paper canvas.

  2. Lemoine says:

    Speak it, Courtney Klink.

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