I put the overhaul in too
and these scattered bits
you called memory’s jar
off the shelf
off the cuff
a lot of words
cut like cloth
they ought only
lie still enough
to not knock us out
from under ourselves
in a single moment
your life has changed
and you are nothing
like you were before
but who will verify you,
who will let you pass?
and aren’t you a stranger
and aren’t your papers forged
and isn’t your ride late
and your destination
a bad place to be right now?
The weight is heavy
from either end
of you
and words won’t quite
do the trick
the thing is
no one can save you
from this
how shattering starts
from the bottom
up / your body’s
constant scar forming
in the night
and sleep itself
unable to hold you.
Source