Penny pinchers fragmented pulse a
new design for a deviance. I've kept
metronome time, a stop watch statistic
to hold my breath by.

I dreamt of a sheet, white and clean to
wrap the edges of arms and held back
hands. To brace the gears and mutilate
the moments of my ticking mind.

There in the back door of my brain, held up by a...
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my grounding falls off between my feet
splitting my legs wide. Dull, dust settles
the ocean caps to their own dismay.
Lean forward, the hands connecting to
back, skin and muscle and underlying
bone regarding yesterdays thoughts of
summers past as the trivial anecdote.

I am newly risen against cold words
hanging fresh between my ears.
Contrived in capacitated blank stares.
I'd hold her close...
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and to my small audience, I will say this. There is always a way out.
I am the Houdini of my time. That is to say as long as it doesn't
concern the physicality of steal. How trivial.... I must be drunk...

In any case....

I am here to leave again. I'll post bail and find my way through a gamut of
logic to something...
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Such a wonderfully dreary day
Ashes from old lies falling slow.
hanging low around my ankles
hindering my movements; my
thoughts are faint sounds in the
back of my head and I'm failing
again... Looking for lands in a
direction to find a way home.

She touches herself,
quiet and unloved into a puddle,
there is nothing that makes her whole
nothing that makes her feel guilty

I'm off to listen to the silences