Cut, paste, carry.
Receive, bleed, recede.

Are these eyes my own?
When did you get here?

A singsong bird out my window,
Calling me to the cemetery.

I'll meet you there.
We can find it together.

Step up, step down, turn around.
Lie awake, fall asleep, fall awake.

The dimes on my counter are blue
Shades like cotton, streaming hues.

Visions of hell. Visions of heaven.
Visions of all the spaces between.

Where have you gone, my friend?
When will this all end?

**** it. Leave it. Scream it.
Jump. Run. Swerve.

This tree in particular
Seems to understand me.

Ant hills made of dish soap
Ink like blood on paper thin walls.