The poison sticks and stays in pores and under fingernails
I linger on the stench
It reminds me of things I have not yet accomplished
The joints pulling apart at my seams in the effort of reaching so far
The surgery of days work, nimble fingers
Swiftly stitching and ripping and carefully
Carving out the imperfections to create
A new whole that begs to be hollowed and built anew
Time tocks away, it disappears
Like early snow on a hot windshield
What an unaccomplished person I would be
My pockets full and this never endeavored.
A widow of dreams and wishes
A lifetime of self-loathed grieving
Or years and fears and the possibility of becoming such despite it all.
Do I dare breathe a sigh or emit a laugh
Between the scales and lengthened stanzas
Or hold in the euphoric atmosphere for later;
My light in a weary, faded world.
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