| gas in my gut and air in my
brain i struggle to cope with something in vain the words seldom near a yawn not a tear and an uncomfortable chair; I’m in pain. |
GAS |
| midst | i stare at the floor midst the rubble i see eight objects, are footwear belonging to me… |
| i shake and i squirm I burst at the seams; the remnants of living; the leftover genes they ask who i am they knock at life’s door they play with my essence and scratch at the floor… |
my essence |
| settles | the dust which i carry around
in my brain like webs in the shadows and sand at the drain clouds up in a storm when days are to fear; and settles, like crystal, when vision is clear. |
| i look vaguely there for the cobwebs to clear i search for a word, for a smile, or a tear; the music still rocks from the bubblegumbox and i still can’t compete with the shoes at my feet. |
at my feet. |