Like double exposure film,
I flipped through these photos of my life
Mirrored images of the same person
Minutes apart
in three years time
Begging the tears to wash away the shame
the grappling of his touch has always seemed to bring
This picture book is full of unspeakable words
one I can never really to tell
Currently wrecking this connection I have desperately tried to build
Meanwhile when it’s dark and alone I lay
The features of his face play puppet shadow games
And ironically enough, while the darkness makes me weary, because that’s when he’s always with me
I just wish he had turned off the lights
5am write