malfunction.

2006-02-18 1:02 p.m.

this is the decade that has passed in absense, and i have wandered
my hands quick pressed together
through the halls where we've been open.

those shapes, the ones
that haunt me back to slumber, that ghost story me
to sleep
have taken count and numbered me for dead, called me out to search -

when i am done with growth i will be potted, planted, removed from social customs, when i have become so content

with cold feet to the cement, and taking turns, the men that have burned through me either call or fail to visit, either stay

or leave without giving notice.

i am afraid, lately, of the honesty that clutches me awake, of being
unable
to communicate the present, a form of transference, to put experience
in symbols
and then to make a language.

cowered, i am humbled
removed
replaced by something new and far less caring, and i try my capabilities at wits end
in searching out the comfort i am missing.

there is so little truth in this.

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