the swarm of flies is me
wheatgrass dry hair
regretting below the canopy
unkempt

listen, i don’t want to be your only,
your stop sign in the road
the swarm of flies is you
clouding my mind
making me confused

the rapid flight of tiny bodies
all dropping dead in front of me
unaware of their demise;
only aware of me

sweet breather,
the swarm of flies is you
panicked and anxious
erratic and angsty
i’ll never need a body to complete me
never need some hands to manhandle me into emotions i do not feel

maybe you’ll always need another skeletal system to inform you of how to exist
productively killing themselves
from within
the swarm of flies is you
a cold reaching hand outstretched to my flimsy bones
warning me to jump into the abyss with no real meaning behind it

the swarm of flies is me
my fluctuation of feelings
mixed signals and pushbacks

i’m sorry, other human,
so sorry i have retreated back into my own thoughts
pacing around a maze that’ll never be completed

the swarm of flies is me
for blaming you
for my own childish fears
for leaving you a corpse
mislead and exhausted

the swarm is me