wait four. right.

wait four. right.

when you lose
everything. reduction
naturally claims large
parts of what life is
supposed to be.

you see. i ran
before anyone could
grip what i was
trying to escape.
and i was never. too fast.

please, world. view me as
broken. categorize. my defeat
like every average disposal
to shove in a dark space
with a lid. and forget.

swooning to a six foot
step above what i could
have been amongst perfection.
to know how loss consumes,
forget every imagine of once.

and only. i have understood
pleasure to arrive without
expectation of permanence.
yet letting… caused bleeding…
so i rewind. back. before.


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