Since you refrained
                From my smile
I cannot trust your chair
Its arms won't hold me tight
                                      It reflects us
I've started picking
At that which binds it

Footsteps soften
                          A door latch drops
The silence
Between that
               And a fumbled key
The distance between
I love you and it's over
I don’t know where I sit
                   But I cannot trust your chair

Identity has
No attachment
Where from
It was once held down
                                                     As a constant
To cover the years

Identity is suggestive

Fluid
In the moment of our own perception
Adaptable
In the moment of being perceived

Take an ice cube
Place it between your palms
                                                   As to incubate
Identity dissolves to
Slip through your fingers

Dear Diary

                     It’s not my fault

It’s easy to render
Myself a victim
Driven by consequence
                                    
Accountability
Sheds daily
                    Like skin
It silently falls

Perhaps I shall erase
My cuttings of
                    Foregone conclusions

They surround a
Diary full of days
Each encircled
                    By failure of others

Fear surrounds
Born of reactions
                             To that which is felt
Or heard
Or seen
Or anticipated

The heart beat
Swallowing boundaries
The ear drum
Tracking inaudible sound
The pupil
Dilating to event horizon
The thought
Expanding a scenario

The chord within a Hammer Horror
Scored in a “diminished fifth”
Which
When conducted
Emits a frequency that
                             Walks through walls