When I was a small



I made everything

about desire. 

Now                  approaching the sea

           like a knife 

at dawn              the glare burying 

into my eyes I look

for shade. 

                             I’m trying to believe 

all I can without question.

It’s exhausting


to all the words and                      really

paying so much attention.

My ears


                              sag like clams.

The TV 

even when muted

           seems to scream longwinded


                              into the heart

my hands 


from bathing in too much time.

The TV                 a jail 


           I willingly enter

and stay until the internet feels 


           growing lonely 

           and gorgeous. 

The sun goes down

           it’s canal of whispers 

           and howls,

my brain slamming 

                              like a fist of snakes

into light.