I Got It

Musical Selection: The Internet|Under Control

An Experiment

I tell him things can’t
get any worse and we
agree to tell her — we agree
to let her know we’ve been
watching her, dreaming about
her, and waiting for her
to pick one of us.

Creepy, though it may sound,
she was into it.
He had his reasons.
I had mine. We told her
all of them.

“Fifteen minutes. Just give
me fifteen minutes. That’s
all I need to prove
I’m the better choice.”

I paced in front of her
awaiting her decision.
Surely, she’d see things
my way, but what happened
was just the opposite.

I stood there, still as clay,
afraid to shed the past
in front of a person
I claimed a future with and
nothing I said made
any sense.

She looked on, curious
to know where my antics
were headed; everything
drew itself free from
my grip and every word I
uttered turned into dust.

I watched this woman
we chased sprinkle
herself over the two
of us — potioned and portioned
perfectly and the only
thing I could think of
to say was, 
“I got it.”

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This poem came to me while listening to the musical selection on repeat — I had the cover photo saved in my phone for later use; I felt as though it was the perfect image for this piece

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Originally published in Prism & Pen via Medium.