One day before you’re gone
When the need is too high again
You will need to dry your arm
For a second time
August 5, 2025
12:10 am
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One day before you’re gone
When the need is too high again
You will need to dry your arm
For a second time
August 5, 2025
12:10 am
I feel so guilty just for being alive.
I’m not right in the head and I think I never will be.
I just need to get this out tonight.
“It’s too much. Again. Again, you go too far!”
I hear it loud and clear.
“You are too much!”
I am too much,
But — too much for what? Too much for who?
…
Crying is blocked when others would or possibly could see it.
When it does happen, I’m almost always alone.
A sleeping guardian stirs
The alerted sentry opens an eye
Poems elusive,
poems that will never be:
tonight I mourn them
(On expression never served.)
A confidant asked me recently
(Gently, as is their way)
How, when I pick up that tool
I know when I’m finished
Sometimes
No, often
The words come of their own accord
Unsummoned
But still so welcome
I give them a home
A nest to rest in
…
Many anxious evenings
I want to burn every word I’ve written
…
Over a great bonfire of massive flames
Reaching for the atmosphere
Dreaming of visiting the stars
…
Words queued for release
Fatigue conquers expression
Return underground