dusty gray moth

i walk down the small, slightly wet and oddly sunny street thinking about the countless times i've been here before. it's very quiet and the occasional car makes little fuss - stopping and going, turning and driving. there are no people out and i tell myself the rain scared them away, or perhaps they have places to be on an early thursday morning. in bed, maybe. i stop at an intersection and wait for the light to turn green. how many times have i stood here before? how many times did i wonder if i would be thinking about myself standing in this one spot. i try not to let my mind slip, keep myself on a steady path. just follow the yellow brick road. but the puddles call me, and the the faint smell of rain on sidewalk taunt my thoughts to stray. evertime i'm in this god forsaken city i think of you. i avoid the places i know you might be, but i keep to the side lines and small pockets of streets in hopes of catching just one glimpse. "that's all i need" i tell myself. of course that is never the case - like a moth to a flame. a glimpse is never enough. so i head home, knowing full well the dangers that might lurk around every corner. the rush of blood to my chest, to my head, at the thought of seeing you again after all this time.. it's almost too much.
it's garbage day and i survey the heaps of trash that are out on display in front of every crumbling little brick house on my street. egg cartons, beer bottles, left over ramen and arizona ice tea. every house's trash is the same.

i keep my sights set on the tips of my worn out boots, head down. never look up, never look around. all because i know, that if my eyes wander for just a moment and by some awful cosmic coincidence i catch the tiniest peek - i will become a dusty gray moth, fascinated with the dazzling and sparkling allure of the bright light. i will become a dusty gray moth.. and i will burn alive.