colored lights

(play this soundtrack)

i used to love staying up late in the dark

on my laptop, with cheap string lights—

little balls that glowed amber green and indigo—

and i’d play these strained, nostalgic songs

to feel my longing for something else,

something more beautiful,

to escape into fantasy,

away from mundane thought,

into another planet,

into a rich and vivid life,

i’d light incense

and lie on my carpet

and watch the ceiling

for as long as i could,

until finally,

i accepted disappointment

and went to sleep

still longing for something barely articulate,

dreading waking up

to the bright sun,

to people hustling about,

to scrum meetings

and dry textbooks

and TurboTax reminders—

is it wrong?

is it slothful, god?

to crave to be floating

in a big dark cloud,

in swirling purples

and friendly planets

where cities look like little christmas lights—

why do you make me choose

between loneliness and beauty

between my neighbor and my fantasies

set with heartbreaking cellos

that the world desecrates

by sounds of productivity

how could you not want it too?

is this all frivolous to you? immature?

well how dare you make the world like this

to make me read disgusting facts

and fill my mind with ugly practicalities

how could you not see what i see?

and force me between two worlds

you reject the more beautiful one

now how will you resolve me

without shattering the good in it