This wide shadow of a morning I am
Trees clothed in rain
Streets dark, slick, redolent with
School mornings

But I am inside

Counting all my deaths
In anticipation

Something soon
And involved:
A long
Out terror

Or else the gradual
Frail skin
Cut through so
Like paper
In the backyard
And a horror
That death is
Still impending;

I don’t imagine
A sudden waking to magnificence
I don’t imagine a slow
To a walk
That is strong
And tea in my kitchen
As I live my neighbourhood
Long haired
And knowing
So much more than I now do
With a confidence
That being human
Is more than my
Small. Sacred. Imaginings

I don’t see that

Because it’s never a look

Only a glimpse and look away
A fever dream that reflects off
The all-day-rain

I let it cloth my internal organs

As if I wish the grey clouds
Were saying:

It isn’t worth it to live
Or any day,

And I see this scream in my soul
Is not born of this rain
Or this Tuesday
But still she looks out
And believes
What she always feared
Is coming true

Some people find their addiction
A glass. A bottle. Some flesh.
Mine is
A feeling
I have kept, like a pet
I am keeping;

while it’s keeping me

Author: K L

Just having a human experience like everyone else.

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