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SOLIPSISM


Sometimes when I can’t see it I wonder if the world exists If I close my curtains Turn out the lights And close my eyes tight Does everything else Simply cease to exist? Can I ignore The pounding of my heart As it keeps me awake Because, after all None of the things I’m worrying about Really exist when I’m not looking at them. But how do I stop looking How do I curtain the world Shut off the sun And live with my eyes closed So that I don’t have to fear Things that pop back into existence The moment I let them?


I I I I I I

am am am am am am

photocopied heart fading ink smeared lines on next copy not sure what this means tired tired

I I I I I

am am am am am

brittle paper creased one too many times too easily torn sure I am losing not sure what I am losing

I I I I I I

am am am am am am

paper jam torn edges unfinished manuscript shredded paper used up sorry sorry


There is a body here, somewhere A soul I think I knew Head buried in the mud But that doesn’t mean What you think it means. There is a body here, there With a face, a name But I don’t know it yet; I don’t know if I can Bring myself to ask. Still, that doesn’t mean What you think it means. And I’m not who you think I am I am still breathing Past the mud in my lungs And most of the time I wish I could forget Who I am, who I was. I am a body Sinking into dirt And you couldn’t care less What my name is As you try to pull me out When the dirt is pushed from My lungs, you’ll ask, And I will tell you I don’t know, but that’s a lie. I’ll look at myself later In the bathroom mirror And say I don’t recognize The face looking back This time, I am not lying. I’ve never known that face.


STRANGER STRA NGE R


ON FIRE


You dream darkly And you slip that perfect little blade Between each of my ribs Because you like to see the scars And my heart can’t beat With you looking at me Like you want To set these limbs on fire


I’m chewing my lips blood red and wondering about My next course of action Because this isn’t where I thought I’d be And I don’t know What I’ll do If five years from now I’m in the same place I’m dreaming Of water and forests And places That don’t exist Outside my head I’m contemplating change But I don’t know where to start And really that’s Where the problem started In the first place, isn’t it? And I’m dreaming of a time Ten years from now When the forest creeps Into my back yard And I let it Because I can’t I can’t bear To tame a wild thing When in the end That is all I want to be.


TAME A WILD THING


Like a demon raised From a hell I don’t believe in A spike of heat to the heart Burning up, out, Pressing against your ribcage Like something trapped Dangerous Choking on a sharp tongue That jumps up Shattering against The teeth and lips That hold it in And the words fall Unused and unwanted From a fading smile Piling up The debris Of a thousand things Left unsaid.


A 1000 THINGS


PHOBOPHOBIA


Everything is so far away And I can’t breathe Like I used to Fear Like some large beast Makes it’s home On my chest Crushing the air From my lungs I am restrained By its weight alone Trapped Grasping At air And the ignorance Of passersby

I can’t breathe My vision Tunnels inward Black at the edges The weight Is too much My ribs shatter And my heart Is cut to ribbons but still pounds Faithfully In my chest Even when All I want Is for it To stop.


SOMETIMES SOMETIMES WHEN II WHEN CAN’T SEE SEE IT IT CAN’T WONDER II WONDER IF THE THE WORLD WORLD IF EXISTS


Solipsism