On screws loose, cards short, days late, and lost marbles

The wind is pulled out through my screened off window

like a hand gripping my door handle

and it rattles within its frame

like a caged rodent

and as this happens behind me I am struck with a thought

square on the back of my head

and I bleed understanding

and I lose consciousness

I am being pulled out from under myself

shocked when I stand atop a bare table

sharing the space with expensive china and wine glasses

and the magician smiles

Ta DA!

I've lost my head again

perhaps it's something I'm doing to myself

hiding my upper brain functions so that they can't become self aware

keeping knowledge of who I am from me

meta-this and meta-that

met a girl, she's lovely

met a man, he taught me

was met with a fork in the road

and met this decision with great concern-



and then it's gone again

I keep shying away

I'm not ready to face these things

enough about me

let's talk about who I wish I was

who I hope i'm not

who I think you are

who you think I am

who cares about what I think, really?

not the me that lives here

truth is like a leaky faucet

that will never turn on

and although occasionally parts of me are visible

the veil of illusion separates us

why do I do this?



and it's gone again

I toss the thoughts away before I have them

I mail them to some future instances of myself

and the door jostles the door frame loose

and the wind whips up the thousand scraps of paper on which I write these sentiments

and the bolts are stripped

and the trusses give way

and the ceiling collapses



and I'm falling like I always do at the end of this nightmare

and I keep falling until I wake up

it feels like hours

falling faster than I can imagine

and my heart is pounding

and the wind is whipping

          (paper clouds)

and for a moment the most intense fear I have ever known grips my heart

what If I'm not dreaming?

what if one day I don't wake up?

and I hit the ground

and I have to deal with the fact that gravity catches up with all things

even aimless pilots

with parachutes



I hope to god that some day before then I figure it out.



because I'm getting very close to the ground.







I shut my window.











and I go to sleep.

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