Salty Gravity

excuses
harbored beneath my eyes
"I'm sorry I'm not what you want"

days
seem to slip between our hands
"I'm sorry I can't change the past"

salt
flowing,
unceasing,
pulled by gravity
"I try but you keep
pushing me away....."

down,
it lingers,
nestled in the pores of my face
but gravity always wins.
it rests untouched,
but only for a moment..

my hands
ascend with hope,
hoping to find solidarity,
only to find the salt dancing among black smears.
these streaks now pressed against my cheeks,
and my fingers feel the weight of gravity,
and despair,
as they are pulled violently back down to the concrete.

"Every weekend its the same sad story"