I’m perpetually fighting
the constant pressure
to capture
the present moment
(How much is mine to keep?)
When all I want is to exist within it,
and let it pass,
as quickly as I realized it was there,
and as briefly as it remained

I can only bathe in it
in the metaphorical sense,
letting these little droplets of time
soak into my skin
with a soft, rose petal fragrance,
the scent of renewal
masking an ever-present fear
that fills these soap bubbles, each neat little "pop"
destroying my rainbowed reflection
stretched across their filmy surfaces

I realize I am only partially attached
to the drain plug of the bathtub...

But that thought escapes me as well,
moving with the water now swirling down the pipes,
***** from my skin and tears
and lost hairs and forgotten dreams,
carrying every particle of my former self
to some unknown grave

So I leave my bones, carelessly, in this empty ceramic shell
and imagine the day that I was born

I feel restless
unstable, unsure;
but surely nearing
some tipping point
that the speed of the top,
wobbling wildly,
prevents me from seeing

[I am blind]

Equilibrium has passed me by;
can I capture it once more?

(a lack of movement
is also a form of balance)

The weight of uncertainty
is enough to knock me over;
Now, lying beneath the trees,
I question all that I am

I'm losing my sense of self,
But gaining a sense of confidence
In my ability to accept the fear

It washes over me, suddenly
It falls on me like a blanket, full of sand,
Made of the concrete and asphalt
that touch my face,
fragile bones
breaking
as they hit the ground

I savor the awareness
and clarity of my perspective,
No longer fearing
Emptiness
As I spill onto the sidewalk

I can’t trust my mind...

So I throw myself down the stairs

Standing in front of the sink
My own eyes stared back at me
The mirror was *****, and through the flecks
I saw my self

Where was this beauty?
Sometimes I glimpsed it in dreams,
A stranger with familiar qualities
That I'm ashamed to call my own

But the time keeps getting away,
so I chase and I chase and I chase
Something beyond the sky, beyond the earth,
Beyond what my fingers can grasp at

(These tips get blistered, calloused,
Yet where does my mind hide?)