sketched into a picture of one
shadows the complexity
of adrenaline rush about
bleak things and
sweet summer sweat.
the roughage worries me
as much as the royal party
when i have actually got to do
something in the direction of
damp bridges with fertile forests
on the other side.
i wonder if the police cares
whilst saying “tomorrow, tomorrow”
and my wonder makes me not
go for any chances tomorrow.
i still ring those same guitar chords
in my ears.
for the first time now i know
it wasn’t love which made me
so vulnerable and motion molted,
it was compulsion.
after two years of thinking i am changing,
i am back to believing i didn’t.
i still believe i will.
everyone is a baby
but that doesn’t help me
or scare the crows away from me.
i can’t take my headsets in school
and i can’t be quiet.
i used to think attachment
is an invariable consequence
of being a human and feeling
things. but i really think
feelings should be limited,
it is a lesson we should all learn.
the absence of the knot kills
and i don’t want to pick up the glass
for the various things.
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