my heart beats drag me down
loud, silent, urgent, slow
the world slurs and i'm still in its headlights
all the light on my skin goes out
drunken focus, pale and disappearing
i am a deer or a rat in a trap
and later i will think it is just a metaphor
but without the privilege of thoughts my heart breaks my ribs
without privilege of thought my heart is too big for this body
panic pulls at the snare
loud and silent and urgent and slow
sick over sterile, heaving velvet
dirty fridge, idiot
someone has to do it
then the distinction is lost
here the distinction gets lost
i miss my own metamorphasis and we never speak of it ever again
drinking with the moon tomorrow night
its quiet out and smells clean, i think
in hindsight it is only a metaphor







