if you need to view
the character of a mind,
watch how it flinches when
the carrion eaters come
to pick apart
the world,
or watch
as it relaxes
knowing
that there is more
for the corpses to do
than rot and pile
ever higher.

my last four days have been spent away
in a lightless pit at the bottom of my mind.
but the time spent there is not what is important,
as I could not hear what happened above me
and likewise, they did not hear what happened
to me, alone in the cold floor of that depth.
it is now, as I emerge shaken but fresh eyed,
that I notice how the world seems to be off
in a way words have no business describing.
to be sure, I seem to have missed something
and from the faces of those I talk with now,
I can see that they are missing something
as well, but I’m not sure if they know it.

I hadn’t heard her sing
in almost four years
and in that time
I had almost forgotten
how loud her soul was
when she sat to herself
and sang a song that
wasn’t really meant for
anyone

there’s a rift between who I am
and who I thought I would be,
two identities existing within
the same space, a long shadow
and the object that casts it.
this, of course, has repercussions:
a screeching sound that comes
from reconciling two forces, both
trying to be alone. listen closely
and you may hear it coming from
between the seams that pull apart
slowly, despite their best efforts
to contain my dissonance.

Christmas this year felt wrong
different from its typical way,
no, it’s not the plastic joy
or the Plexiglas spirit,
it’s something deeper
a hollowness pervades it
the celebrations look like mirages

it all doesn’t seem real anymore
like there’s nothing in there
not even greed or fear
or the hunger at the heart
of the human spirit

everything feels like Styrofoam packaging
covering everything until it floats away
and until it comes down as garbage
it can hardly even be said to have existed
at all.

are we
more afraid of
failing
or
failing
to succeed?

that’s the difference
between here and there:
here I am alone
at night
and there
I am alone
always