Running on Empty
It took a while to get there,
With scratched upholstery
And our hard histories of dust.
So close, we could have touched it.
But dark inertia had us.
All snakes; no ladders. No trust.
Now, I know the feeling of Nothing.
But, my friend, that is plenty.
I came through where so many fell,
Because I’ve learned to run on empty.
If every day is a lesson,
Maybe I’ve learned too much
To even want to touch a hand.
But, while I keep drawing breath,
I’ll forge on, and grow old,
Happy to spin gold from sand.