August breathing down my neck // tap tap tap // nervous hands // firecracker vision // soft shallow breath // life is stop motion inside a cardboard box // knock knock knock on the front door is the cue to be still, hold it, pretend nobody is home, pray he doesn't come to the window // life in a fishbowl, tables got turned, and there was never going to be any pleasure to be taken in that because I let it go, someday long ago, and decided upon forgiveness and endless chances and accepting the risk that I'll be made a fool or get knocked about // that's what life does, it rattles you and it's all you can do to keep yourself together // but now I'm mumbling // don't make a fuss // speak up, nobody can hear you, say it again // what if I don't believe it this time around because words can just be the cement to fill empty spaces with no real meaning, no real language // there are no words in this language to communicate what I feel, how I think // thinking hurts, sometimes, it actually hurts // flowers withering in a vase, don't know where I got that vase // spine feels cracked and brittle like an old atlas // everyone is sleeping but you and me and words here flow efforlessly and they aren't light, they are heavy, and that means they matter // i'm so uneasy, i'm so undone, everywhere but here among my books and my mess // like Neely O'Hara, swallowing my sleep, time no longer works in a forward-moving line, it jumps back and leaps forward and turns over on itself and you weren't even asleep by then // the first few bars of Fur Elise on the keyboard // two more of us are gone and that sickness must have been right there growing inside him while he was making his speech at his daughter's wedding and I was watching and laughing and angry at my mother for being an impolite audience // just listen listen // you will learn so much more about the world when you are listening than when you are battling and clamouring, waiting your turn to be heard.