i meditate on these past two years
i am made to see things backwards
through a lens. i could not grasp
time as it flew by me but i am dexterous
now. i am versed in pain; slipping scriptures
from my tongue like an amphibious creature
i regurgitate; water and blood from my stomach
i sort out the stones in my gullet
i make sense of time even though time
has slipped besides me and left me so
daunting and haunted i am
trapped in a black void i can think
of nothing else-

i contemplate the last six months i am
so dedicated to making sense of the inexpressible
the incomprehensible , unfathomable, impenetrable
i stay awake until my eyes are red and powder,
i jot down these words and i call that survival
might i trace my steps back into the snow where
the wolves in the night never find me;
unbeknownst i drip blood
i fall into the void where there exists no such thing
as a whisper; for things are either never uttered
or yelled upon the mountain, there is no in between
and i cannot alter my eyes
that they might see as they once did