i live a day to day existence
always falling to the floor
i measure time by weekends
and forget to close the door
i saw the lonely face in the mirror
and wondered who it could be
"certainly not me--i am the happiest
i could ever hope to be"
"not i" declared the hen.
was i ever understood?
it fell right through my fingertips
and vanished through the carpet.
my mind is scraped along the concrete
i try and i try to remember and find
where the hell it could have gone.
what
what is it that i'm looking for?
i hold your hand and the light finds
its way
the water begins to clear--the mud has
found more interesting prey.
ignore this.
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