Sam Wellick
Guest Poet

These live long moments are often short-lived
Devoid of certain truths,
Running through back alleys and dissolving into city streets
Sky surrounds us whole when emotion refuses to grow
Selling ourselves for moments of sincerity
Money can’t fill the gaps in our personalities,
Resent, loneliness is always free
It’s the way you look dead,
Convinced that love is not loving
Minds too busy making heavens of hell
Following footsteps where it ends is where it begins
There is nothing left to do
When you cease to be you
Counting the moments before the rain
Stationary fear
These days peel away and you remain the same
Possibly sane
I can’t provide what I don’t have
Coincide with all the other liars
Maybe it will be all right.