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Traffic Lights (A piece that I wrote some time ago, but recently revised)

My New Year’s Eve

was spent

sheepishly collecting fragmented recollections

to confirm

that my dignity

had truly died.

 

Soberly,

I perused

the bars and clubs,

and aimlessly walked

beneath crowded streets,

feeling like my life

had somehow

been shifted

into slow motion,

while the rest of the world,

engaging

in joyous celebration

and ffestivities,

was knocked out of rhythm

from my existence.

 

How in the world

could the clock strike midnight?

How could people embrace, and kiss

at the dropping of the ball?

How could they laugh and smiile,

And wish each other a “Happy New Year!”?

 

More importantly,

how could those god damn traffic lights

have the audacity

to continue changing

from red to ggreen to yellow,

then back to red again.

 

My dignity had just died.

My dignity had just died.

My dignity was dead.

My dignity was gone.

 

In the days and weeks

that followed

the death of my dignity,

I noticed

that the expressed nuances of life faded

from colloquial to iconic,

like something mystical,

or an intangible object

of deep longing.

 

And recurrent images

of those fucking

obnoxious traffic lights

insensitively

switching colors

replay in my mind

to remind me

over and over

in the greens (go),

the reds (stop),

and the yellows (be careful),

that my dignity

had died.

 

Memories

of the ddays

before my dignity had died

run through my mind

like old

home movies

with centuries

of black and white film

stuck on repeat,

and slowly fraying,

around the edges,

because of the staunch demands

of time.

 

It is life’s

harsh and cruel

irony

that these images,

once my greatest joy,

have now become

inflicters

of the greatest pain

that I

have ever felt.

 

Like a sound wave

of pain,

so powerful,

that it has silenced

any pleasure

that my heart

has ever heard.

 

So now I know,

it is true

life is a bitch.

 

The expiration

of my dignity

has made me

overly aware

of the earth

turning on its axis.

 

As spring approached,

for the very first time,

I noticed

the way

that flowers

seem reluctant

to bloom,

as if uncertain

of their

welcome invitation.

 

Such a cruel reality,

that the flowers,

unwelcome

and uninvited

yet would choose

to bloom,

and nature

would choose

to carry on,

running

further and further

away

from the day

that my dignity died.

 

And still,

to this day,

those

damn

traffic lights

keep

switching colors.

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2 Comments

  1. Man,
    This was a DAMN for me!

    I absolutely love reading your mind.
    Brilliant is an understatement.

    Impressed.

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