Sad Labels:
acceptance
,
introspect
Every time we wake up together I check my wrists for blood.
At the early morning I wake the owl. To find out what it saw. That I could not. In the darkness. Together we explore. The dense intersections that make humanity something to watch. Long stories short of breath.
Flat tires rolls over her skin. Feeble jacks repair nothing. In blank hours. Too weak to search for names.
She prods the doll with missing feet. For answers too old to catch. Her fraying net. fumbles with the pieces too small to keep. She pokes the dead things with her stick.
As it crumbles inside her fist.
Just doors. At the back of her head. That keep coming open.