the devil, it ain’t no horned
demon in the shadows.
nah, it’s the slick
on the sidewalk that says
“step here, it’s fine.
just a little water.”
and before you know it,
you’re skidding.
some kid on the corner,
barefoot with a cracked cup,
waves you over
like he knows something.
he’s got a fish, says he pulled it
from some river you’ve never heard of.
the water in the cup?
not clean.
but something about that smiling kid,
like he’s hooked you instead.
up the block, there’s a fight brewing,
shouting over what belongs to who,
pushing and shoving over nothing,
but it’s loud enough to pull you in.
you’re on your feet now,
arms up, ready to defend
what you don’t remember owning.
but the ground—it tilts.
like someone pulled the earth
out from under you.
just past the alley,
a building starts to sway.
you didn’t notice it before,
now it’s crumbling, brick by brick.
looked solid, safe,
but one crack, and it’s all coming down.
then she walks in
like she’s got all the time
in the world to fix
whatever this is.
eyes like riverbed iron, she says
“you can’t punch a wave, kiddo”.
she’s right.
she always is.
but I’ve got a boat waiting.
nothing fancy, just some scraps
nailed together,
and the tide is heading out.
those ropes,
are they keeping me safe
or just still?
out there in the distance,
a flicker—a matchstrike.
could be salvation.
could be trouble.
could be both.
then there's the sun,
there's always the sun,
behind the clouds,
never drowning in a storm,
torching the way forward.
the devil’s still grinning.
the world's still groaning
but I got my hands on the tiller,
eyes on the horizon.
this sea, this storm,
this street don’t own me.
i'm built for this.