Cure me of my ills
And I shall attend
To what wills me to live;
No matter the circumstance
They should be the same.
A soft stare, a harsh glance—
All’ve entered the game.
If I run, will time catch up with me?
If I train for a triathlon?
If I sprain my angle fatefully
Will my hear reserve its song?
I never know when to fall
Or rise under water;
I never know whether
The land or the water is safer.
Cure me of my ills;
I have more time to smother.