Well, I made it to morning
Rotting in my room
Losing my callouses
to the outside world
I’m so much more
sensitive these days
Picking
at the strings till my fingers bleed
Call it exposure
therapy
I just feel exposed
Self preservation,
like a mummy- embalmed
Hands crossed over my chest
in a butterfly hug
Is there room in the shell Frank?
I Haven’t Been Doing So Well
I can tell
Fell through the cracks
like so many before
And the cracks are all throughout
this road we thought was safe
The pavement
falls away
Don’t step on the cracks (but they’re all I see)
Falling,
aching to be free