distinction

Things manifest in their particulars, instants skinning maps and figures, all the exclusionary conditions coming along with the package. This is here, that is there, look at how far away we must search these similes. These strings of alibis, these reasons to cling and concur. It is emptiness that gathers, so much vacancy that brings it all rushing in. I can never get my bearings, mornings so quick and certain.

The day already escapes, waking so late and so poorly. The words are there without warning, somehow I am missing my lines. Somehow I am always off script and out of character. One scene lingers, one raises a ruckus. I yawn and try to gather my remnants. I breath a little deeper, as if all I had could ever be enough.

It is all rhyme and residue, all art and ache. Smoke soaked clothes, tooth ache frames the light in the eyes, itch and scratch always threading their prayers of flesh and feeling. The slipped punch of awareness, the evasion meaning more than the attack. That sickness that writhes through the core of being, that sickness that assails and assumes. These small mementos, these graceless souvenirs. A message in a bottle lost in the tides of this restless heart. A distinction only hatred can resolve.