i went to bed last night
there was a knot in my chest,
close to, but not quite
where my stomach lies.

it feels like rage,
it tastes like confusion,
it’s inarticulate,
it will not be denied.

i could say i hate you
because you have the power,
but i stand mute,
like an aged and weathered totem.

“You can’t find trees like that anymore.”
he said it without emotion,
just a simple fact,
and pain grew around the knot.

i slept, chased by failure
down corridors that i half remembered,
that were ultimately unfamiliar,
until your voice shook me,

“Wake up. It’s 5:00 am.
It’s time to fight again.”
strange words to hear
in a love song on a hissing radio

if i had my way
there would be no more music.
no misconstrued, heart born
mathematics of need

i’d place you
just you
in that window
like a candle to say

this is a safe place
not predictable
but a place
where you will not be broken

until the music ends
and the harsh lights
expose the flaws,
and tracts

trampled in the mosh pit:
“The Sisters of The Sacred Cross invite you
to an evening
of quiet contemplation.”