falling amidst allegations,
allegories,
stale revelations on the shelf
next to unused organs,
glands,
emotions.
you've set those aside, too.
so what am i?
life support.
and for all the honest pleading,
(i felt like my eyes were bleeding, for a moment),
all the times i tried to explain -
well, it's always better in my head.
deeper.
i would go deeper into myself.
regress, remember, regret.
i would curl up
with all my failings like a great big quilt,
heavy on my heart,
and i would lie here for decades.
but i won't.
i never do.
i can't leave bad enough alone.
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