Metallic Sunset

Every moment is tender-

loins for the eating,

loins for the wearing.

We carry moments

on our backs like shirts

we refuse to wash.

We measure time

like sugar, weigh it out –

one cup, one hour.

We are dogs on leashes,

howling for moments

that can never exist again,

that never truly did exist,

Because it was all in our heads.

And if we have a standard to live by,

it’s because we’ve been brainwashed

to work like machines.

I feel metallic all the time &

I hate the feel I hate

the taste I hate the sound

& if I could I would carve

my crazy into a bird house

for you & you could live

In it, like the bird you are.

We can feel safe

in insanity if oblivion rests

on our eyelids like lashes.

I want to lash out sometimes,

feel lush rushes of muscles

bending to hurt something.

But you would never know.

& if you did, well I’ve been doing this

wrong & I wouldn’t doubt it at all

because I know I’ve been doing this

wrong. More sure than I am

of the existence of the grass

I’m crushing between my fingertips.

I’m standing still

while time swing dances circles around me.

I can’t remember the last time

I truly enjoyed anything.

Do you? Do you? No.

It’s all a game, and if you aren’t winning

you are losing. I’ve never felt this lost.

Even if I followed the breadcrumbs

I wouldn’t know how to get back,

or what it was I wanted to get back to.

Even if I held your hand, I know

I wouldn’t be strong enough to follow.

It’s a shame I’m too afraid to say anything.

It’s a shame the sun sets. Always.