Taking a stroll down the knife-edge path
dragged by apathy, vague ambivalence-
Looking in the mirror and the immediate
need to leave the room, lest you pull it down-
Out of breath, on the floor, in the shower,
forgetting the words to explain yourself.
Worth nothing? Worth nothing? No.
You are not merely the contours of shadow.
Where you are walking, dreams don't go.
I know that because once I felt worthy.
I want to be invisible, to disappear, but
that's not true. I want to speak, be heard,
I want to be remembered. I believed?
Didn't I? Yes, I always have, I still do-
I'm screaming into silence.
