

unfinishedThere are cages in my chest that you do not know about, bars in which I watch your eyes change colors, see your freckles as you turn around, and watch your smile grow and fade, cages that I press myself against without trying to escapeunfinished
This is what I never say; I sometimes feel I should give up, let go
Words aren’t enough, suspicion loosens the doors around my heart
I half dreams sometimes, when I look at you,
Your never-shaking hands on my face fix the bars, re-create disruptions that make the moths flutter up, towards


watchpostTired must have came from three a.m. watch posts an hour late. I thought I heard your voice, but it was being kicked off of white parchment that loses me in it's color everytime I'm pen-poisedwatchpost
I'd like to meet you again in a garden field
The rain clouds stopped moving overhead, thoughts turned from scrap metal what-if's to things more real in just as long as it took you to say one point five words.
The ticking actually put me to sleep, I wanted to say to you, I think poison wood got the upper hand and if my vision's gone tomorrow, I


Exitif I could stall my heartbeat, slow the world down by frames, I would study all of the tears you do not cryExit
my jaw hinges are failing, along with my back bone, tear duct, heart, lungs, finger tips and possibly, liver, too
and so is the stapel gun
I've been using it too much and I tie myself in knots, pull emotions into saran wrap want-to-be-thoughts, but they don't really want to be anything at all, it's ignored/ forgotten that I can dissapear tomorrow and not cause a stir till twelve o'clock next Friday
--
When possibilities are as truth unborn
--
papa was a rolling stone, where ever
he laid his hat was his home and when
he died all he left us was alone
--
[link].
--
/Sandra.
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