They talk about chaos
but I notice nothing
it seems like ordinary things to me
snow and cars and people in queue to get nowhere
these are just ordinary things
just trivial things

My hands haven't
felt air for days
She told me the most beautiful moment was
when her saviour got snowflakes in her eyelashes
the most beautiful moment
just an ordinary moment

I call this winter
the coldest one for years
that's what we say every year
while we nod our heads to eachother like jack-in-the-boxes
these things happen every year
every ordinary year

I like to watch as he is
gathering up his cards around him
sorting them in little stacks like treasures

and I sit beside or behind him
waiting for a breath of relief or liberation
for him to close his eyes and reel me in

there's no greater treasury
than the one he graciously showed me
hidden and quiet in his winding mind

I lay down on the covers and listen
to the sound that wood makes when it moves
when it moves so slowly you can barely notice
as spiders crawl on the soles of my feet
they move unashamed like the
Lepisma saccharina
commonly known as the enemy
or silverfishes
under my floorboards

I have got no meter
it makes me write like a renegade dropout
smoking outside the doors of
junior high
but this is not poetry I write
it's testimonies
of how I looked further and never found
much of anything

I'd sweep quietness away with one sudden movement
like when smoke disperses
with a waving hand I can expel
all that is wrong like if I
broke the best china and saw the violets
in pieces of porcelain on the floor but
I know that silence is thick and
nothing ever breaks against linoleum

I've been watching elderflowers bloom and die
all summer
been living in the cupboards of this house
like a scavenger

The cats due to their immense independence
come and go
I try to convince them not to leave me alone
calling and bribing

If you sit on the bench by the door you'll hear carhorns
vaguely distant
I shut my eyes and pretend to live in a dream world as
reality hits me

And I bury myself in the grass and the blossoms
smelling dewdrops
as I pull my fingers trough the soil and the gravel
I wrap myself in solitude

Killing lilies
catching swallows
bursting dams
breakings traces

It takes more to leave this
It takes another wasted year

Consuming air
loosing sanity
wasting moments
wounding pride

It takes more to get this
It takes another turn of tides

I've been

Standing in corners
Talking to trees
Sketching grasping hands
Dreamt of dreaming

and I've been
Running further than legs could carry
Even ran in place
Gored head against walls

Now I
Hope it's enough

Silent
Can't you hear me breathing?
The rain will fall soon
Because you promised

Silent
I don't miss the conversations
content with a smoke under the stairs
this life is lawless
Because you said so

Shout
Someday someone will hear
the marks and traces we left in this world
but to feel the tip of your fingers
Is enough for now