I was busy filling the space
avoiding answers to questions
so that I could ask again (so full of doubt)
creating what the void erased
Aging lines hold my stump
keeping track of the years
hiding beneath, just out of sight,
like the space behind my eyes
Supposing this works the way I wish
and the happiness holds firm
the stability is what I thought
but I am afraid (it isn’t what I was sold).
Putting all my love in it
to push through my concerns
wishing I could find what I’d lost
when I shaved off my pains.
Burying myself in direction
and filling the coffers with bodies
never could I ever imagine
that it would be myself that I found

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