mendacity

i wish i could tell you
my thoughts on treetops, but since i moved here
everything has been about rain,
& the way it feels to come full circle.

you see i'm the expert
at holding myself tight but today i'm
leaking out seeping between my fingers
making a mess of this frigid room.

oatmeal nightmares & soy latte daydreams
& that fairytale party i forgot to go to last night.
in the dictionary, cerulean is the purplish blue of
october skies, but suddenly it's december

& the sky looks more like dingy bathroom tiles or
cigarette ashes in the daylight. i'd like you
to come up with a name for this color that makes us
run indoors and curl into each other for warmth.

a name they'll print on crayola wrappers,
package between candy-apple red and
ballerina pink. end-of-the-line orange, so i must have
missed my stop.

there's so many new beginnings
and i don't know where they came from but if i
cut off my hair or stopped smiling at strangers
could i have a moment alone?

pack it all up and away and
we'll take a trip to the other side of the river,
where nothing has changed.
except where have all the girls gone?