That thing you felt deeply and didn't share on purpose

because it's wrong to feel this particular thing and other things and

because you're not worthy, or trained, and it could never

Because I Because I Because I

Because I do long for purpose and dream of a beautiful future, and I can hear my heart pump blood when I see you.

I like to delay it with a long preamble, like this one.

I move in. Excited like 

two cars collide on the freeway, and I am watching, and no one is in the car. 

I didn’t stay long there. I am working on that.

The shallow top backed away

like it wanted to be seen until I looked at it

like the cat I feed but can’t pet every morning.

Dignity and Pride. I laugh in a serious way.

"Dignity is not up for grabs these days." I beat my chest because it hurt.

Not since he died and then I fell out the sleeping chamber and then

A restless hunter runs the wrong direction. Misguided to execute his self for the betterment of a good thing. He throws himself from the tower.

Two hands meet. He jumps again before opening his eyes.

Sustenance grows in dust. I learned about that when I had nothing else to do.

I would talk more about it but I am watching this now.

Pride they can take. You too. Rather fill the space with something new

or not.

I am young and tired. Holding space for the fragile and I guess I dream -

it's silly -

of filling it, me, it with a song I si-, or a restful sleep,

or an invisible world – and only the vulnerable survive.

Would you survive there? Would I?

I did it again. I forgot to feel and now I have this poem.