Sharp Circles
my spirals have spikes
with knife-sharp edges
waiting to stab me
as i slide down
circling to nowhere
in particular
just around and around
and branches
that beg me to leap
erroneously believing that i
can fly like a bird
or a plane
or a superhero with a cape
and hurl myself
from the precipice
into the yawning abyss
all while the voices croon
useless useless
in a three part harmony
inside of my skull
with a heavy bass line
that makes me dance
even though
i’m so tired
i’ll probably fall
07 March 2018
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