breath
and breathe in what i have become
beneath a misery of make believe
as I hold all my torn breath to pieces
in
believing
edges of right and wrong delineated
by straight lines
are where I have tiptoed
and never fell over
with scared looking back eyes
I see I need more distance
and breath
from the lines.

I
    Keep
Clawing
       Away
   But
        You're
   Still
In
     My
  Head

Now I notice
how your eyes burn
blowtorch-blue
when you look at love
looking back at you.

they could cut
through iron bars;
set free
the wish to settle down,
caged within men like me.