I reside
inside the seating of my mind
trying
to make sense of it

The probe
cold, pointing
to the place
no one else can go
the place
where day time and evening time and night time
merge
and play back their specific requests
my attention
worn by the simplest question

Impossible dreams come
I think they are hallucinations
of telephones
and conversations
drawing me up
out of sleep
out of bed
to wonder

Want to die
Don’t want to die
Want to live
Want to eat
Fill me up
Eat me
Talk to me
Take me
Carry me
Learn about me

Cutting me
Cutting me
Deeper
Deeper
Run through me
Run through me
Kill me
Kill me
Leave me
Craving and empty
Withering
Loving
No one but myself

Time passes
Days pass
I pass
Outward
Inward
Nothing sustains me

It makes no sense
I read
I write
I cry
I ache
I pray
And still
No sense

I hold back
No calls
Not allowed
Big grief
Large grief
Ultimate grief

I’m obsessed
Climbing the borderline