knuckle sandwich
i can’t quite put the thought together.
it’s like looking
for resolutions in
feelings or mental imagery,
like the faces we miss.
they attempt to hold on
reluctantly torn from memory,
sprained ankles and broken wrists,
i’m all too aware that it’s futile.
my self-serving so-called elementary brilliance should’ve prepared me for this,
i think,
am i more than this?
hellbent on needing something to miss?
simply ignoring time you don’t deserve?
taller pines talk on higher decibles, so
yr worried mumbling won’t stir, do u hear
the whirr
holds us with more than an echo
if u kept yr mouth shut i could make out the words
not fluent but i can tell from the tone of it,
it wants me, all that i want, wants me gone, n more
“hun, you got me waiting on u all the time i just can’t wait for u to die
