it had taken bones,
reshuffled and pounded to pieces
fingertips,
scorched
from molding cast irons,
worn, from unsewing and re-sewing heartbeats
and wrists,
white from scarring,
for me not to break
at the slightest touch.

Oh,
how you have begot routine

An occupation entered most
unexpectedly

Consuming a once
vivid and polymathic soul
Seeped into your bones
Left you forgot,
a flickering and
dying star

Yes,
you're here every day,
but you're heart feels vacant;
gone away, or really still at
home, wherever that is

Your body's traveling the
world, but your mind's spinning in
circles,
too fast to see past the
fugue

Will you reminisce of these days to your future
children?
Or will you skip this period,
for this is
not really you to begin with?

Hope
your intermission will come to an end

May you someday return, spirited and
renewed

One open can of
half empty **** water
popped the night before
for a palm of pills,
codeine and HRT
chased with Kamchatka 8-0
she collapses in bed
with hope in her head,
belly full.

Morning comes, her will is gone, she stumbles blind
to root her elbows at the window sill, still groggy
from the high of nighttime.
Noon comes and the clock stops, it's a road block
setup at the overpass and by the time
transference makes sense she's
spent her energy just shifting.

In place, enervated. A mistake.
A husk built of guilt and bone.
In a closed room full of blood and *****,
alone. Atone.
In place, enervated,
elbows at the window sill.