Below, There’s Only One Pathway

Patrick Faller
Aug 24, 2017 · 1 min read

through blackness. We’re still in Ohio,

though we’ve driven ages from home

and our tires click, having taken rocks

from the shoulder. I don’t know how

to let us go. You could be shown to me

in a trunk, all those alarms blaring,

and I wouldn’t know how to name

what I felt. That’s the shitty part —

that I would let myself be taken over

by a fascination for definition.

That’s why we’ve come all this way.

In the cave, I know I couldn’t escape

the feeling of air between our hands,

and the hard slap of my heart

sounding yours out—ruin; a landslide.


Image credit: paul morris via Unsplash

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Patrick Faller

Written by

When teaching, I aim to help students use writing to connect with their passions. When writing, I try to guide readers toward what they might have missed.

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