That’s what I tell myself.
Don’t get so upset,
But in my nightmares I’m caught in the drift net,
Of a tide I could never fight from the offset,
Cold sweats, another piece played in a chess set,
Lost to the other player,
Falling through the multilayer.
It doesn’t matter.
Through the never, forward into forever,
Whosoever found you,
Became only something to be severed,
Like a hand or a foot or a human, less.
Cut it off like an infection.
The time comes to obsess over what you couldn’t posses.
Egress you, fly through the ether of counter-success.
With the demons you acquiesce,
With the friends you digress.
Crying like a straight jacket maggot.
Tears of black, liquid agate.
Drawing yourself, you sinner,