Hidden inside me something
hides me from you.
And it’s about to come unglued,
like a poorly but proudly
school made piece of art.
My macaroni intestines start to
come apart and
split at the seams.
And I anxiously await my anxiety state.
Await the insomnia and formula
my body follows so closely to begin
and weigh in on my
current life sins.
Business as usual for the
sensitive ones. Life relayed by
internal dictators through the
broken neurotransmitters and
weak gut.
But,
though the cycle continues,
interrupts the cycle that’s happening,
the cycles combine,
and I’m no longer trapped in me.
The cycles have finally
allowed me to move.
And I may not ride
life’s bike like you do,
but at this present moment
it’s enough to stay glued.
And like the curious kitten,
I peep my head out,
to show you what’s been hidden.
Show you my bicycle’s route.

~kb