wheels are independent of themselves
they roll as if they were children at a playground
the concept of regret doesn't trigger visceral pain
and doesn't eat them from the inside and out
and their pale expression as they touch the concrete
resonates so softly with their exterior,
and they give no *****.
and i wish i were a wheel
i get no breaks with physicality
but at least i know i won't wake up sobbing in the middle of the night
wheels are my esoteric dream
and that's okay with me