Out of order

When the sky gets cloudy,

When the stars misalign,

When gloom takes over,

That sight always makes me feel alright.

The bright golden silhouette beaming out the scratched glass.

Calling out to me, pulling me into that ecstatic trance.

As I move closer, as I get another hearty look.

Those curves never fail to impress me; they never fail to make me feel shook.

With every step I take,

My heart beats with a different rate.

My eyes water, I float, losing all the dreaded weight.

Nothing could make my day better, if nothing was her beautiful name.

As I approach the vivid glass,

I’m pushed out of that ecstatic trance.

The out of order sign beams at the top, taking away my only chance.

The chance to reconcile.

The chance to meet her one more time.

The chance to see her smile.

The chance to devour her with my eyes.

The chance to make my day alright.

Dread takes a toll.

Misfortune comes upon us all.

It’s fills me with fury.

It lights up all that pent up angst.

But alas, that glass holds us apart.

As I stare at that golden packet,

It breaks my delicate heart.

As I stare I can’t help but feel.

The aggression filling into me.

With a fist of fury, I bang the smudged glass.

“But that won’t fix us.” Said my feeble heart.

As soon as I fall to my knees,

I hear a crackle, a rustle of that plastic tarp.

I look up, I’ve just witnessed the act of god.

The bag slides down in all its glory.

Falling into the tray below, from the second storey.

It fills me with joy.

I feel like I’m on cloud 9.

My heart was fixed instantly, I can’t deny.

Being out of order, the machine still respected the relationship between the bag of chips and I.