the sky is grey, the sand is grey...
turn toward the window
wonder at space
and space
(the absence of objects
the absence of objectivity)
"imagine yourself small,"
each glance
toward the little piece i get
outside my window
on mornings like these
(eye) shift downward
and shoot insecurity
without a chaser of self-pity
"what did your father do?"
is the wrong question.
"what didn't your father do?"
and why is it all gurgling up
septic and sick?
"memories fester if you don't nurture them."
the splinters of ellipses
at the false ends
of endless criticism
sliding in and building
teetering neighborhoods
in my skin
in my skin
in my skin i feel tired today
and i apologize
that my makeshift magic cures
(ignore it, shove it down, turn it over, paint over it, just keep smiling girl)
are undoing,
right before our eyes
i wish
i could
take back the broken
and last night
wonder at space
and space
(the absence of objects
the absence of objectivity)
"imagine yourself small,"
each glance
toward the little piece i get
outside my window
on mornings like these
(eye) shift downward
and shoot insecurity
without a chaser of self-pity
"what did your father do?"
is the wrong question.
"what didn't your father do?"
and why is it all gurgling up
septic and sick?
"memories fester if you don't nurture them."
the splinters of ellipses
at the false ends
of endless criticism
sliding in and building
teetering neighborhoods
in my skin
in my skin
in my skin i feel tired today
and i apologize
that my makeshift magic cures
(ignore it, shove it down, turn it over, paint over it, just keep smiling girl)
are undoing,
right before our eyes
i wish
i could
take back the broken
and last night