Grey Converse

She has the same grey chucks as you
sometimes when we're walking together
and I'm looking down at my feet
wondering why no matter where I go they look the same
I'll see those shoes walking
beside mine

I get caught up a little when it happens and
look up, but it's not you.
I knew it wasn't.
the hope Prometheus gave me
is rubbish.
and I keep forgetting to take out the garbage.

the funnest thing is there isn't even
a spec of dirt on her shoes.
it haunts me like some sort
of divine sign that I shouldn't
mess her up

so to counter the sadness I trip.
I look far infront of me at all times
and some times I run just to
feel the reckless pounding of my heart.

Cause it's reckless you know,
too stupid to stop because of the pain
always beating to go on.
When I listen is sounds like it's yelling
"go-on, go-on, go-on, go-on"
like constant direction for my
goldfish mind.
when I hold my breath it only yells louder.

while I'm catching my breath
I try to remember why it is my heart's yelling
and I look down and see my feet and remember,
morosely,
heather gray converse with a bit of splashed
green paint on the toe.

Note: I wrote this to counter the sadness given me by a new friend. I'm still functional I swear.