nowhere

fingers curled, a paralysis
yet still animate
contriving a contorted pleasure
as if, masochism perfects a pretty sound,
so too, the poison runs into the capillaries.

a dull, blunt, drown

still,
they take their places over
and under

then over
and
under again,

saying what my lips cant form:
im a sorry kid with a

heavy
heavy
heart
.


spurious freedom
between the routine of a sad new kind of game,
i just want to tell you who you are,
make the stop-start,

stop


and then
start.

goes the smooth, gilded rust
running slow over your:

hungry eyes and earnest ears to a hopeful heart
again straining the poison into a well,

saying words that dont mean anything but its ok to work it out themselves.

i got a bright blue ribbon but now its emptying out
to a hollow tin man with a perfect plan to collapse into a great big nothing now

yeah i am you, you are me, we are stuck in this freedom together.


5 years now. just let me figure it out.