This
is getting to me
A pile-up of information
You pay for a certain
type of experience
It's subcutaneous
It's here
To choose not to decide is
the least satisfying
and yet we let it happen
over and over again
You resist sacrifice
even if it's for the greater good
Trouble is only reversible
never a tripled thing
What's not attributable
is your fault
Something is not going right
You think I'm talking about it
Weaker than thou
is the voting booth
Yet another required update
to the weather app
It's the small beauties
your eyes catch
Be mindful and
apologize when you're not
Otherwise, go about your business
You can delete me
I don't mind how
other fingers follow the way you dance
It's dancing, what do you want?
But some of me
will stay in your cheek bones
Even after I'm done
A little bump in my step then
You can delete me
It's alright
I built that palace
for you
Whenever you need
And it's full of love and time and snot and smells
It's been a quagmire since
The crushed compass and a discard of words
It happened
It happened twice
It happened three times
I'm some kind of lucky
A dead person
A star of the neighborhood
That's for sure
A whimsy on an otherwise
static surface
I'm being looked at
I'm being noticed
The very letters of the word standout
So that a gaggle of letters matter better than a word and a word is nothing but a sign of things
You know what I'm saying
You hear intention
Even without a body attached
It's subcutaneous
It's here
A handwritten ghost of moments
It's too much at times
You know it
