The greatest battles/ wars- are those fought in one’s own mind.
Sometimes over & over again.  Bridges you are forced to cross only to realize later you must backtrack  and cross in a different manner.
To humble yourself enough to consider another option-
one previously beyond and above your scope of perception or ability.
To then fashion a device that will carry you- this time over your obstacles instead of trekking through them; thereby  dredging the sticky matter and debris of that particular chaos with you to your next destination. --\
Which of course you will find is only more journey. Likely meant, at some point to be revisited by yourself in a higher consciousness.

if light bulbs got anxious and burned out any time someone caught them shining

i think about the stains on the ceiling, shaped like angels falling
about wooden walls like abstract art, you see an owl, then i see your subconscious
eyes are not windows to the soul, as some say
they hold the wear and tear of the day to day
and i could only venture to guess
that you're staring at your own reflection
when you comment on the hazel in mine.

can't keep coffee
in my cup
it drips down the sides and sloshes over on yr shoes
and you look back at me,
biting yr tongue, i know

can't keep cigarettes
in my pack
i know i've quit but i buy another
how else can i feel proud
with no temptation to resist?

can't keep pace
with anyone
you tell me to stop comparing
"it'll come, give it time"
and i know, but even so

i can't keep you
not that i'd want to
my cells regenerate too fast
though i've stole the smallest part that i could manage
so i might keep a bit in tact

(no,) it's not horror by convention.
the walls are bare of bugs
(and indeed there are walls. bugs too, though not the sort to pester)
i've not been abruptly taken or shaken or prodded by torturous instruments of men or the mind.
for garish light i am able to adjust (though i'd prefer it dim)
i make no note of odor or obtrusive presence,
and so it is in my familiar crevice.

where joints come painlessly unhinged
(connected still by blood and tissue)
like the child's game with mismatched shapes
(this square simply won't fit in this tube)
(limbs irrevocably misaligned)
and there i'll float, when i've drifted
to the depths of a space that can't be removed
(aware and unable)

only hope that no one's counting
how many times we've changed
our minds.
like car rides where you wanna dive
straight up and out the window
to the sky
and i really believed in an instant
that i might.