Incline

Plastic tracks connect together to simulate
impossible races in impossible places.
Through the bedroom window and off
the roof they cross a finish line that isn’t
marked by anything. Any walking by could see
that while this was a conventional waste of time
it was also something special burned into their mind,
never forgotten.

I will throw words away for anything,
running my mouth noticing the archways
in structures I have no business being in.
The silence to me felt like death for so long,
but as of lately I have realized its importance.
Listening might be the most powerful ability
we have because understanding is like a lost
statue covered in moss in the forest, and if
you aren’t paying attention you could lose it.

The worst way to leave this place is in a house
you cannot tell is burning down, or I suppose
even worse than that would be to know
and just remain among the flames.
I am moving toward the doorway, through the smoke,
no matter what is hurting or what is burning up
behind me as I go because I know that on the outside
there is water down the incline, and good people
who will help me make it through.