the walk

But.
I realized that day, I want ones like this.
I have something hedged in my direction
despite variations of sabotage,
the clues were there from the start
breadcrumbs I should have burned.

Elated I never was, although there were moments of tickle,
but few and far between,
a sip of sparkling energy drink,
a can with nothing in it but chemicals for forced content,
the ghost of satisfaction in aluminum.
Intelligence was never the suit I wore,
so when the rusted nails could pierce
a reddish surface of betrayal.
nails of fingers and of roof,
both get screwed.
Both bleed the same.

And then when the chest filled with air gasped,
the heart said more pollen,
more weight, more wanting,
more of what poisons slowly.
So then I walked and walked,
endless, gray, forsaken songs were grinding
against the inside of my skull.
But what was more; the weight of phone on my trouser?
The tether. The lie machine.
I stopped to drop it off.
I want to be free, not for one, the cushion holding marrow
that soft prison we mistake for comfort.

it is a warm hug.
A hand I don't deserve to feel.
I walked and walked, and the thing I realized was:
I am so tired.
The more I tire, the more I go to sleep.
The more I sleep, the less I have to feel the distance
between the person I pretended to be
and the nothing I became.

And that's almost mercy.