“I have to tell my story, you’re going
to be my next generation know it all.”
The past really can be repeated—
you can show me if I give you a chance, step
boldly with both feet into your twelve-month-sobriety
foundations and trust in life worth living.
“I’ll take you out of here; you’ll never
have to live a life so composed again.”
I could do without passion, breathe in the
seconds black-and-white. I can cross my legs
at the ankle, stare at the future eye to-
eye, and restrain the hunger captaining
my bloodstream. But I’m keeping a need
for frequencies, and there’s nothing
spatial here to save you.