You can’t face forward when you’re turning back.
This is phase ten, I’m not fazed.
The dichotomy between you and you,
has been utterly disorienting.
you’ll understand when you’re not resisting.
I am at point a,
And you are at point blank
When I am staring you down.
I have found that winter brings around a sudden furrow to my brow,
and I can’t help but look twice at everyone here.
I can’t help but question what is questionable,
and everything, red,
is in question.
I will tell you how I know it’s winter.
One day I felt like a bag.
I had been blown away,
and was simply too light to have any blood flowing.
My heartbeat was almost nonexistent
Warmth was not blowing me around,
Only cold, cold, eyes.
And this is what winter sounds like, don’t you think?
Imagine what winter would be without the word,
and you’ll find me blowing right past your face.
In such an indescribable place as this,
Where home is one room and life is another,
When friends open doors and lovers come through the window,
I feel complete.
When windows break, I feel whole.
I don’t live with anything locked.
When the wind sings I can swear that life has passed me by,
In infinitesimal spaces I sit and expand at expense to myself,
but consequences have always felt so delicious and body aches feel me.
Sometimes I think I will become bedridden
And Madonna and child will love me more than life itself.
But here, when grass is only me, and I am but a blade of grass,
nobody can love and there is a severe lack
in the understanding of what exactly love is.
And the heat of love takes me, but I can take the heat,
When you’re cold,
I’m going to rain down fire on your small back.
