I follow you like a flower
bobbing against a shore that won’t let me cling,
on a river that won’t even swallow me.
You make a small desperate noise
I want to arouse you into normalcy
but you ache past the deep
and bypass the shallow.
You’ve transformed into stress,
become the green moss on everything in winter.
I remove the patches with a stick but it grows back with deeper roots, reaching roots.
I shift to a memory,
Covered to the chin on the couch, salmon with colored thread.
Falling from myself as a pre-teen.
The removal of my life force and what that actually meant for
Such a fragile time to tell the brain
and make it understand the depravation. That doctor, an incomplete understanding and
what consequences?
After that, world changed to moss
hanging from the end of unicorn
horns, unicorns turn to stone
when little girls can’t close their eyes.
And I forgot you,