Identity Water

​I’m falling but not down

Nor up

Just slipping into another identity

Faster than the washing machine runs out of hot water
I’m escaping but not to or away 

But out of this body bag

I’ve been carrying around

Not dead or alive

But walking around

With blurry destinations

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Endless tides

​I am made up of all the seasons plus the time they stay for
I am many rivers and their banks, the dams and their obstacles
I bound and leap like a leopard in heat

Trying to escape, but having to cheat

My way through the streets
I am drowning, but the ocean will be jealous because

It’s never seen so many pools of water come and go so fast and so slow at the same time like the tears that form and throw

​There are days where I can only respond through poetry

Like a vent needs slits for lungs

And fish, gills
There are weeks where I can only escape through the thrill of walking into unknown places

Looking for faces

Other than my own
There are months where I can’t seem to think freely

But through the confines of my ribs 

Torturous soul I am

Masks

​Like a thief with a plan

I am wearing more masks

And more protected

Even if they fell off

And my thoughts are alarms being thrown
I care, but my heart is so used to being barred, charred and ripped out

Rather than just sitting and being fried by the love people throw at me

I lock my head with a fragile key

Reacting 

​I’ve been watching, studying reactions

So don’t tell me I don’t know how to read

When words weren’t what I learned from
My language stemmed from the roots of leaves and pods on branches

Reaching out to hold me

Before I fell
Cradled for such little time

Crawling home to where there

Wasn’t another living soul

Ants making homes out of my nostrils

Drilling me on my time let fashion

Asking me questions like

Where did my sense of love go?
So I continued to latch onto loop holes and climb through, stammering for truth whilst stumbling over headaches
It’s like im constantly being pushed against my own body 

And my eyes are the jackpot

For my own window

Title Chaos

​A title is something to slab on when you need organization

And sometimes I just want to sit within the chaos I was born in
Confined in a box of

Cans without lids

I became the tops and sat

On roofs with paper

And scribed a different time
Written over broken hearts

Scripts with no hidden meaning

And clibed through the shadows

But I too, have been eaten alive by

Insects of void nature

And I avoid people when I am too stable

​I’m not used to roaming about in the streets without sheets

Tightly wrapped around my brain

Like a spring and a notebook

In twirling with age
Strange measures take place when

Numbers keep popping and dropping

But if nature can grow over and around it’s obstacles

I too, can walk on the waters of my melted mind and 

Self loathing