normal

I’m listening to the same song
over and over and over and over and .. .
and I’m smothering her.

my hands don’t pick up the phone –
can’t pick up the phone –
like they used to..
static, I’m stupid, stupid,
broken.

I thought maybe one day I could be
normal
. .. enough ..

but I’ve grown used to the idea
of leaving,
of letting down
easy,
of not being missed.

fixed point

I am not a fixed point
————in time
living between years,
the sheets of forgetfulness
——–and being wasteful
writing to do lists
of nothing, nothing, nothing

learn to hear
or learn to leave,

but I’ve only ever been good at
—————step 2. run away.