Riding the wheel and I only feel dizzy when it stops,
Reading words again that I know I’ve seen before
Laughing at myself for thinking
It’s still the same thing.
I’m trying to bathe from an empty flask.
Inertia trips me up I’m screaming past the patterns,
You’d think that maybe by now I would have learned
I don’t know where my feet are planted
And I tiptoe across the glass,
I wonder why I could recognize the feeling of a cracked flowerpot
When it’s cold it expands and the cover shatters
Like someone was throwing stones
I feel bad for the goldfish but I still catch rain through the holes in my roof.
Writing what I needed last year but I can’t put it down it’s like north and north,
But throwing down south would be walking backwards and I need to hurry, I am already late.
Talking about each day I do remember
I have graphite under my fingernails
My notebook smells like leather and it is full of holes like skin
I couldn’t figure out how to open my tongue and I am still trying to part my lips rather than my ankles
I repeat myself to the paper getting closer to snapping
Every time I change my mind
Back going in circles like my hands and eyes
I never mean the same thing when
I speak but there are only a few words that I know how to use
And I can see through what I made invisible
Ultimately it depends on whether you look
But I can just sit here drawing circles over the words
Squished together so no one can read
An egg into a flower, the fingers of the devil
By another name, my words would taste less sweet,
The names of these ramblings.
Was that a dream, well what about the fingers
Stroking my hair and my teeth
Question, was nothing real
Well who am I to say? Well me, yes, I can talk but
I’m not sure and half the time I was asleep and talked about playing cards with no strings
In those seconds it all looks so easy.
Am I practicing this dance with or by myself?
And there’s no music, no one had time
Songs about lots of things maybe.
We are granted the privilege of speculation
And what do I mean by this word well it depends
I’m never really sure what I say when I put north to north
I sat at night half sideways
I listened to collections of sounds
On repeat so I wrote and I listened
Again when I made what jumped into my skull
Why are the walls breathing?
I put a skeleton on my pillow
And wake up to walk in wobbling circles
As I climb down and I’m lost so I start to spin
Out of control again like a compass in a cat- or is it in mister i?
Either way I’ll find something out
