I wasn't looking
for a fight, or even for a number, despite
being made of
them. Made of numbers, that is. Fear cannot
be measured. The
distance between me and my fears
is not calculable
but is definitely shrinking? One side of me
is a dot. The
other an ampersand. As an equation I don't even
make sense. Separateness
holds me accountable.
I wasn't looking
for invention, as such. The articulation
of fears or
perhaps just of my joints. For I do bend in ways
that cannot be
measured. I am measured in my
calculations. The
point at which all things must break.
(Must be broken.)
I wasn't looking
for accountability. Just a few quick
swigs of darkness
and then back into the fray. The goal
of drinking is
not to protect the floor. Just remember
not to let them
touch you next time.
Draw it out...
Never let them
touch you.
