I'm laughing at what
I almost said
out loud

I have exited my head
to, admittedly, another part
of my head, a better one
this time and here
is why

Or is this a poem
that talks to you
on its own
about how it's
written
and that
alone

Is this a poem
if I just leave it
be
and not alone

I confronted my own smile
cursed in magenta
and alum
dysregulating away
from hitting its mark

It had been cheating again
wayward and wanton
thinking I was not watching
its curved tinctures imagining
them twitching

this is what I came to see
with its feet up captaining
coffee and papers, strewn,
of course, about, about that
time you came

I've never
written anything
I don't think
I've never
thought anything
I don't feel
I've never
felt anything
I don't believe
I've never
believed anything
I don't know
I've never
known anything
I know

I am just
this unconnected
thing

Flailing in space
as life's way
to waste

Had to be given
a name
didn't I