time is hanging over me this evening
myself is exactly in the median of everything
not quite there yet

not the concrete curb separating oncoming traffic
with puddles of pink bushes, but the patches of gravel
disturbed by tire tracks of someone who changed their mind
just moments too late

how can I possibly measure up to the thought of who I once was
when I am stranded under all this shame?

caught in the middle of an endless conversation with my covers
the air is too warm to sleep under tonight
too heavy, I’m wary, so I wait

the sun won’t come up, the birds won’t sing
dry throats, muffled chirps, the world
just waiting for me to close my eyes
and wake up again

Published 2021
Creative Colloquy Anthology Volume 8