Sunset.

The sun sinks painting the sky red. Tranquility sets in deep… I take a breather.

This shirt sticks to my skin, perspiration leaves it wrinkled and blotted. I let whatever’s left of the sun and the humid air to air itself out.

I’ve coasted half the seawall in an attempt to quell an overburdened head full of aimless thoughts.

I’m in a shooting range. I fire, and miss.

I clash with the fact i am warring with my conscious. I was ready for anything.

I sit on my skate deck recently endowed by a friend. This deck is worn out. It gives it character. I can relate.

Time and time again i’ve let down a guard i’ve built.

Brick and mortar lie amidst a table. Scattered on top, paper. Paper with words. Words as of now, are meaningless.

I smell gasoline.

Time and time again i’ve done so. This does not deter me. On every occasion, any situation, i gave it my all. That’s all i could ask of myself. A change is required. A change is necessary.

Friction. Phosphorus.

A fire can spell destruction. A fire can spell passion. A fire can spell renewal.

An explosion cannot win a spelling bee.

This change is coming, or has it already occurred.

Through the smoke, light filters through.

The sun is setting. The sky is red. I had a heart on my sleeve that’s bled.

It’s not so bad. Stitched it back together. Hurt is inevitable. Everything heals. Took this off my sleeve.

I’ve stowed that away for the time being.

Blame is easy. But gets us nowhere. The time we have is short.

And since time stops for no man. I carry on, never searching, but hoping to run into the woman that time itself will stop for.

I think i’ve found a loophole.

I stand. My shirt’s dry again. I get a running start and jump onto my board. I find balance and coast towards what’s left of the setting sun.

The humid air hits me and starts to cool. The pavement breezes past.

I grin.

War over.