i’m beginning again
but where are the friends that made me
in what place do i hide
now that i’m roaming on the other side
of a track making the story into my own
whilst stumbling for the sake of
stumbling
my hands don’t exist
my lips taste as if they have
trembled its way through every
living day since my awakening
my breath unusual
noticeable and closer than it
should be
freely I take and give what was implied
the broken mind finding its way into
my non-existent hands
my hair falling over my eyes
leaving me almost blind for the most
part of this uncharted territory
my sorrys are the longest because
I can feel your traces on my trembling lips
and I see the way you fixate
on our troubles
rather than my honest eyes
waiting for you to bend
sending me into a rage
never to be seen again
never to be held
within the tethered self
in all its stealth
in all its benevolent discrepancies

-D.