Clocking in & Against My Will.

try to misdirect my readers,
with between line creepers.

i cant cease the fear
that these words make clear,
feeling smarter/ a martyr, i'm digging me
six feet deeper
than all those final sleep, sleepers.

this disease/seizes,
my reason.
hurls poems,
gunning from my stomach/foams
at my mouth. i'll
continue to quietly shout-
what
i
am
all
about.

such violence silence can muster insideof
us,
fucks cluster together/whether
you were "she" or granted "we"
this has always been
about me.

i can't explainit,
just continue to feignit/
my understanding
of self, put those feelngs atop the shelf-


words will never be enough,
to tell it to you
straight.
let's call it fate. and
i'll keep correcting you-
i'm a sophomoric prophet,
CONSTANTLY convincing myself i haven't lost it.
tell you i'm on my knees
to better please

higher highs and lower lows.

lie to your face about,
how this is all going to go.

this is just another way,
of
truly letting go.

-A