i met my fate as the orange grass met the sky
while i stood coddled up in sunlight, studious to some remnant of hope, either frequent or terminal

i sat cradled in tears screaming, speak or swallow me up
but perhaps the words came in sleep, or the bottom of my coffee cup
dripping into my sleep and bursting from buds
music to my ears or the flowers growing in love

i met my fate at the edge of the suburbs, when i disappeared into my head, barefoot and hungry, dashing into forests, so numb, holding my weight in heavy rising lungs.
i was fading, perpetual, my own burning constant.
haunted and gaunt, and hardly ever conscious

i met fate on the edge of chance, of a good luck charm. of a missing someone.
i met fate in the words tangled in tongue
where all you sing is unsung

and if you can't walk, you'll run

it doesn't seem like summer anymore
this untangle of distance between me
and waiting for me to be me
it feels like too long weekends
and a too long endless errand
it doesn't feel like gloss and honey
like sun rays hitting suntanned tummies
it doesn't feel safe
just like i'm playing too safe
like the sun just makes me insane

and so i purchase to feel
wear to trick people into thinking
i am worth something just by
the linen and cotton that cover this decay
i call a body
i'm forgetting days
like they're old phone numbers
i just remember the beat to my favorite song
the chords i play on my guitar
the agony of symptoms that lasted too long

the never-answered questions of
am i doing enough?

because the answer is always no
and i'm stuck in a non existent loophole
where everything is go or no go
and god knows we can't have both
and so i'm stuck again, between truth and false
between me and feeling
between feeling or falling

seeing or fleeting.