sometimes things boil
and there are spatters
that make you scream
sometimes the heat
simply simmers
and your jaw seems
to never
unclench
your face floats before me
and muscles tighten freeze fire up
fight
awards for internal
stupidity
fear and loneliness
are not on any list
if my fingers could feel it right
I'd shoot sparks from them
If my words could feel it right
you'd cringe
if my heart could feel it right
I'd never have walked that way
I miss the idea
that something as strong
as a bear
could guard me
I have no guards
I feel my face react
and freeze in its frame
nose-breathing through moments
of lonely lost confusion
and it makes it hard to breathe, that
expression
can you feel it?
the fire?
I want you to feel it, too...
I want a weapon
I want repreive
I want
too many things
that are not there
lithification
is a long, hot, deep pressure
process
perhaps it's not a high school hallway
with headphones on and a classic song
anymore
perhaps I am finally
becoming
rock like.
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