memories are just shallow roots
minced and mixed together
into a soup of displacement
that my mind steeps in
soon it will spill out from my ear
and pour from my eyes
as if permanence and reason are obsolete

disconnecting and rethreading
red thread around this dread
sinking / hardly blinking
memories tiptoeing across my mind
What was I thinking?

picking at flaws
peeling from within
shedding and shredding skin
born with no face
has me out of place
invisible and revisable
never been my own
I've got so many faces
purposefully displacing
your stance
I've a better chance
keeping you off balance
than running the risk
you knowing in advance