The Ho Hum
Unsafe (what I mean is unheld). My core detaches
from this body. I am eroding, like the writer says.
I feel in vials of crushed glass. I feel in bitter hills.
I feel in dissipated knots of tension, of anger swallowed.
Used to be I felt all loved up/Now, I am to the wind.
I am astounded by how far apart we are. Family of isolation.
There may be a saying (hear it from a wolf)
I can carry the load but not in my tongue, not my tongue that seizes
upon itself, not my tongue that strikes itself dumb. This morning
This mourning, I detached from myself and felt the weight of my
meat/realized it was not the weight I have been carrying.
The way it is, your days will fill, regardless. And they will be
whole and worthy, regardless. You can, however, decide what
focus they will take.