head thrown back as if to sleep;
someone unhand me of my endorphins
which i surround myself with

using straining muscles and
blood pumped into each crevice, i
forget how to feel again
gym rat brain
odd body
head ******* on in all the wrong places
and thoughts littered on the ground, around
each of the weights i lift.

my hand seeps under moonlight
of deep, profound, blasted, cursed,
affectionate love
in sunlight, nothing at all
and under hanging stars
it weeps

my eyes bleed
at night
body horror show
mirror is a plight
crusted, flaking glass
frosted bits peeking around
the shower curtains

sometimes, at times
late at night
my hand reaches out; silver
foil reflecting
my hazy counterpart
bathroom sink squeaky clean
the other person
with their eyes closed
as if in a dream

there's an inseam to be found
when the galaxy bears its plump thigh
and moves around thousands of stars
as a result

there's something funny in the way
the skin folds over when the ocean frowns
because it can't seem to get
its catch of the day

there's an oddity amongst
the otters swimming in the arctic
like tiny, dotting buoys
showing a line that should not be crossed

there's something strange in the way
the valve in my
mechanically strung body
refuses to automate like everyone else's

under a hedge
late at night
eyes open
hands skittering through
the smooth grass

a temporary escape
held in a jar
suspended above real life

an invisible structure
and youth in isolation, despite
it being unnatural

and several words
disappearing into puffs
that fade into thin air;
god granted me a genie
and made me the wish granter
instead

cold hands, smooth grass
head full of popcorn
ceilings falling into structures
and all integrity lost
to the skittering hands in
the smooth grass.

each new green shoot,
shot to hell and back
with a silver barrelled gun
and razed to the ground
with the surface of the sun
is benevolent
to the poor earth

in my past self are crumpled papers
and in the present they are resolved
folded into little triangles,
and boats that sail down
the ferry lines of my veins

amongst the static world
i remain free and untethered
amongst my past
i remain liberated
amongst my present
i am fine: this is an ode
to my well being
and the numerous
conversations i had
with my dental hygienist,
(as practice for the real thing)
and the adjustments i made
towards a better future

i have been floating, suspended, for a long time
and now i soar towards the skies
pelicans holding each string
to prevent me from slipping

the wicker chair i support
has enough space for hearts
and futures, and successes
and emotions

my own chest is
whole and healed, a chamber
for which something beautiful can take place;
i am fine. in this world
which is dynamic and elusive,
i am fine, and i have the power to always be fine.