Day 1622, at last.
Day 1621, pushed.
My opinion
got ripped
out of me
~
it still hangs there
attached to the wall
~
I think
my time
pushed me
Day 1620, news.
I stand next
to an alarm bell
~
I don’t hear anything
~
so I assume
all is OK
Day 1619, a hand.
A handprint
in a gravel beach
~
the upcoming tide
hasn’t yet
taken it
away
~
did someone
pushed
themselves up
~
or did they stop
a fall
~
maybe
they just wanted to feel
the cold gravel
Day 1618, seven.
A black dot
erased
~
standing at the end
of a long sentence
~
not
so he could write on
~
but
to deny him
a new line
Day 1617, lines.
We are still
hanging around here
~
trying
to fit in
the lines
~
I wish
someone outlined
an other place
for us
Day 1616, – – . – -. .-
There are so
many holes
in the stories
they tell
~
that it forms
a solid wall
Day 1615, clear cut.
All the fibers
tore
seamless
in my body
at the same time
~
when you told me
~
it was best
this way
~
a clear cut
and I was
Day 1614, in.
When I look
in the mirror
through your eyes
~
I see the tension
between
Day 1613, I spring.
Each day
around
and around
in circles
a spiral
till the end
working on my bounce
Day 1612, tightened.
I will probably
not change
from the past
~
I tightened it
once down
and the paint
covering it
is dry
and still there
Day 1611, looking.
When I sit
and look
like an eagle
~
watching what you do
hiding like a shadow
behind you
~
I search for
my
insecurity
in you
Day 1610, overrated.
I like your embrace
it feels like cold
steel wires
hugging me
~
warmth
is overrated
when you live
in a cold world
~
lets be honest
Day 1609, look at it.
I like to look
at shadows
~
they show you
how the world
is
~
when you don’t want to
look at it
Day 1608, fell.
A dividing wall
lay flat
on a corrugated
blood soaked
metal floor
~
there are no people here
they are long gone
mending their wounds
~
the wall fell
but who
will raise it again
Day 1607, water hose.
