I was uncertain of the time frame.
At least that's what I tell myself.

How many times do
you roll over in your sleep
to make what you know you've done
wrong feel like less of an obstruction.

This is the salt in
water balloons. This is the bated
goodbye.  This is the
time of death announcement.

This is home.
This is abandonment.

This is a ****** stump
This is a phantom limb.
This is a kiss.
This is nothing.
This is elsewhere.
This is giving in.
This is sinning.
This is marriage.
This is quantities.
This is qualifiers.
This is me, I am a body.


I am words.
I am impermanent.
I am blood.
I am water.
I am carbon.
I am sorry.
I am apologies.
I am motion.

I am in love and it's
as horrible as
everybody
promised.

This is waiting.
This is timing.
This is counting.
This is praying.
This is driving.
This is coughing.
This is bleeding.
This is losing.
This is loving.
This is painful.
This is kicking.
This is thrashing.
This is sleeping.
This is nyquil.
This is *****.
This is hurting.
This is waiting.
This is waiting.
This is waiting.
This is lonely.
This is loneliness.
This is swallowing.
This is learning.
This is ******* up.