I want to listen to the sounds I know

I want to listen to the screeching of the world

The scrape of a knife

Across my cheek

Not yet drawing blood

I wake in the darkness

Still not quite

Alright

That familiar feeling

That makes me

Have to look

Behind

Despite this:

Nothing’s there, I think

And much more

Now I think it’s abnormal

Now all in my head

Now as real as

The ground beneath my

Feet

I’m unable

And not sure I want that to change

I want to speak

Half of everything

Half-dark

Half-fear

Half-full

Half-over

Fully strange in a few ways

I am not certain

Of my place

What I always am is

Thinking

But nothing else

I am not certain

Of my wants

My needs

I am not good at

Going ahead

Anticipating

Perhaps distressed

The doe reaches out to

Its mother the Sun

And the Sun reaches out to

Father Earth

And Zeus