Friday, April 11, 1997

nothing concluded 49

breathing through mud
and I can’t try
to understand those around me
hard enough
to understand myself

some sort of disorder
some will say
but
how do they know me
if I will not let them sit here

can’t see the ground
below me
from where I am
the desire to expire
come and gone without conviction

the sky appears
white tonight
as the sun
disappears until
tomorrow

time to forget
all that has been learned
and keep in mind
all that I already
know

short arms serve
no purpose when
pockets are so deep
not to mention
empty

tearing at seams
in the minds
digging to the roots
of who I am
or might be

shell of thought
left behind
shedding some skin
like a snake
and I lie motionless…

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