Lack

Lack.

Some words I just don’t like. “Lack.” Sigh. An unfinished sentence. Not as direct as a question, and far, far, far away from a statement. A blank looking to be filled like a child’s growling tummy. And we search and search, finding swanky little trinkets along the way and sugary, sweet lollipops and treats at the candy store. Too bad it’s never enough.

He was like that with this need for something more. Always more. Sometimes, I would swear that he would see right through me because–guess what–I’m not enough. No bells, no whistles and I don’t even come in a shiny wrapper! It’s almost like he had buyer’s remorse! Alas, those papers were signed and he got stuck with a lemon!

***

You were always perfect to me. Perfectly imperfect.

Remember when you called me beautiful? And then that time, I was because you said it. You believed in me in whispers in serenades and music in painting in pillows in brooks in Seattle and Magic Cards in rides to nowhere in Sandman.

I believed in you too. Your mind racing through this grand-prix track, inching toward that prize. Trying to see it through freeze-frames and snapshots ’cause how else can Time be stopped? But even a long night can’t stop the day from coming after trying to stretch it out with projects, and incense and everyone else’s needs. Even then the day catches up.

Around the corner there’s a hint of a better life. Or is it just that grass you see on the other side?

© 2008 b.cisek