I am in a canyon
It’s grand & I am
What I am
Guilty by
Disassociation:
I can’t tell the
Leaves in the
Trees from the
Faces in the
Concrete

My mind is a
House of mirrors
My faith is a
House of cards
& god the
Dyslexic mixologist

I am arresting my
Happiness for
Enduring life just to
Spite me
Little do I know:

Only I want to hide myself

Mush brained
In the backseat
Fisheye vision
& car crash dreams
Little boxes fly by
Little boxes all the same

Q:
When do I get a
Little box &
Carport &
White fence &
Rolling pin &
Next to kin &
Worship pavement like
Them?

A:
I am already anchored to asphalt so
I’d rather sit here
Watching my thoughts
Trickle through
The membrane &
Stain my perceived
Self-worth