How long before I discover I hold my life in my hands


All the arms just push me out

There aren’t locks but the doors stay shut

I have no hands

I have no voice

I can’t open the silence


and even when I can

I spend much too long picking apart these lightning fires

I have a word a touch a home

for a moment

then I’m lost again.




I found myself


(scary, I know)

but really I am starting to understand why when I got into this box of metal

my mother always wanted me to tell her when I got somewhere safe

because sometimes once I realized

I hold my life in my hands


It would take no hesitation

to let go

to pull the wheel to the side

if I wanted

it could be over before I tell you the punchline

maybe I would be better at being alone if I had let go all those times.

But the thing is

I don’t want to.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 8/20/18

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