it's yellow bones snap
in the background noise
of your next relapse -
you relax into the coma
of your choice - as sparrows trill
in the crisp air between you
and the world.
it keeps spinning to confuse you.
but the daisies spawn hope
from the dark meadows
of your majestic
hopelessness.

akin to an angry ram. unfleeced.
hurling at the wall of our
bruise... blackening the skin
our shadows
as we impeach
what we
learn.