Daily

Silence

means

me.

The words say over and over but poetically dead so I breathe

Breathe to the fantasy of not holding it in

not crying when let in

not climbing my way out

slow pedals of that ladder

I won’t see for it

It is what I told you yesterday that I’m in love

No

Love of love

Quick distance for cancellation

Covered in cans

You can see through but

That is

That is all.

That is all I can give

but fuck I’ve got a lot of perception

Just ask the man who lives up there

He sees it but creates it

Say hello I’m the jester

speaking puppet words

This poem isn’t written by me

It’s him.

Wake up.

Slurred screaming eats away at the bed

Sheets smother face in pity

{Don’t leave; you’re here to die.}

I won’t see for it.