my head blurs the lines between

who i am

who i ought to be

when autumn passes each of us by

a glimmer of hope

i see the look in your eyes

quickness and breaths and suddenly go

when what you do matters

the pain of a “no”

Tapping on the fluted glass

Tracing on a wish

A cold ear, against a wall

Tapping on the fluted glass

Tempted to oblige

Leather jacket hung, to die

Tapping on the fluted glass

Ticking fingernail nicks

Gentle, sings the sea snake

Tapping on the fluted glass

i wish i had the words to say

im sorry

i hurt you

are you okay?

an oven chimes

it’s burning, alive!

why cant i take a bite right

now?

i wish i didnt look back

i am rocks

stones, pebbles, sand

time always tells, for once

what ails you, little bird

blue lips and toes

cold insides bundled up

were you ever alright?

but blue birds can’t talk

at least not in the same way

we do

a stainless shirt, unmarked

path that leads to?

ask and fly away

the wind only seldom replies

winds also can’t talk

but they carry sounds

songs anew

i have this weird memory as a child

a memory of walking in the house

all the lights off

because i slept through everyone leaving for dinner

and even though it was my choice to stay and sleep and sleep

“if you don’t get up now we’re going to leave you”

and sleep and sleep

but when i found myself in that dark house

big and cold and dark

i’d cry

even though it was my choice

A distance in thought and soul, ro-

yalty from the eyes of the pig and its unright

eous owner, snapped, whipped into metic

ulous shape. Language spun from webs c

ohabitating unrelentlessly, unequally

yoked not by choice. Walking long and longing f

ood told above and above, then back down never kn

ew the lengths of time in out of season rhyt

hmic think much growth until finally fr

ee.

Sit on the carpeted floor of this apartment

Come sit and chat

Been some time

Baby hairs growing into teen hairs

Locks struggling to hold a curl

Perspiration wells up

Deepening those cracks, frown lines

Until the soil is so fine

Lovely lady

Needs a tailor to fix, to fix a sundress

Those pesky strings, clinging onto

Dreams of somewhere hot and cold

Sweating asphalt, slicked

Off road has its rocks and bumps, but

The clock moves behind

The backs of those afraid to exist

Earthquakes of mistakes leaving

Behind a child in rags, a doll

Gripping so tightly

Beaded eyes, glossed, awash in numb fear

Numbed in fear is a lot of numbing

To have fear as the default is a lot of running from the end that is no end

Pain, numbed, requires none

A doll

At the end of it all, there is nothing?

There must be

Something moves beneath the surface

A fish dances from a line

Afraid of permanence yet permanently myself

Tick tock goes the clock

Permanently myself

He often wondered if time could really tell

Learned it the hard way

All was, unfortunately, well

Hear the rain, pelting, dripping, dropped?

Like the children running into class

Time itself had stopped