Standing at the unsteady brink
of our own muddling stories
too long in longing, (way too!)
arrested by indifferent fears -
named as much as nameless,
slipping on sharp edges of
borrowed and stolen meanings,
We fill ourselves with words and
store-bought food. Until we can
think no more. Until we can
binge ourselves to sleep. In dreams,
we watch again life and death
play out, and wake up drenched
in blood and denial. Shaking
our heads, we open the news app
to shoplift words that will take us
through another day without feeling.
