And I guess it seems,
there’s no one that can make me feel relieved.
So I push my extremities away from me,
letting those hands fall upon hard ice
until they mend themselves.
I’ve watched ice melt, the sun rise for hours, and time move on
slipping through my fingers like chrism
I’m waiting on wire chairs,
diamond patterns and augmented silent echoes, segments of incessant noise.
secluded outside alone, looking in
longing to be held up enough
to taste the light on my skin