all in footprints i
throw onto the side
walk i mesh with
patterns laid out
like so many
fractions of leaves
caught in an under
tow, when
autumn emerges once more and
streams down the hall, i
can't remember
why
i ever thought at all
that these splinters
inside of me
would just dissolve;
or how
i ever got so
down and out.
little by little, fractures
develop. little by little, i'm
breaking down.
and,
for an eye's blink duration,
i finally understand,
what has come to be, the
sapling of reason i might be able to breathe
a little longer or
curl away, until
the lights in your eyes
become slowly emptying stars,
gracing some horizon, once again,
like
before i found i'd ever fall for you,
and the split-second it took to change that.
'cause, now,
i can't stay asleep,
i can't sleep, can't
find sleep, amongst these tides,
i can't sleep anywhere,
can't
do this
anymore, {for the thirty-seventh time, I whisper.}
the moment dissolves.
awake, eyes closing.
the splinters don't budge.
still awake,
twisting nothing.