how is it the world keeps spinning but nothing
in my world ever changes
how anything can happen
but nothing ever happens to me

they've cut off the branches i used to hang my
self on
stubs remain
wet and crumbling
and the ornaments lay scattered on the floor
my soul quivers and folds in
to the ground
every time i return any desperate regrowth
is cut back shorter
the stubs break piece by piece to the floor
and my trachea bends in a red-knotted bow
around the stump with the largest
bump on the end
out through my rib
cage around my throat wrapping
wrapping lethally around
my soul and my
heart and under
my chin

give me sleep
the waves have lapped over me
for years now
and the crashing has left me shivering

give me sleep
until the moon pardons these waters
for just a day
while we wait
just let me be null

give me sleep
so that when i wake again
my throat is clear and air flows freely
and my chest sways with the tide
instead of against it

until then

give me rest
give me rest so i may wake refreshed
to face the rising moon
without this salt water chest

i'll never write for you
after this day.
on this day
i dust you from my heart
declutter my rib cage
remove every careless remnant of you
that i kept as sentiment.
after this day
i'll redecorate my brain
with seedlings and lights
and your memory
on my mind's windowsill
will consume me no more.

i sit in the still air
that asks nothing of me
only useful because
my body deems it so

the air
not needy
like me

or accusatory
or insinuating my purpose
is to have a purpose
like me

my chemical body
so earthly
changes the air
elemental
powerful
like me

the air does not belong to me
and its purpose is not to serve me
the air understands me
and to be free
in tune with me
just be
is all it seeks
like me