Days of change
The days roll in
Like Santa's elves to the toy shop.
They don't stop.
Salivation drips from the lips
Of the day's maw ----
The wet mouthĀ
Devouring little bits of me too
Slowly so I can't tell
When all of me is consumed.
Likely more than not
I mightn't ever have been that wholeĀ
To begin with.
Probably I leanedĀ
More into being emptiedĀ
So my pale was never full.
The house is a cave I live in
And the days are cruel.
Though the sun is roundĀ
I sleepwalk around.
Exactly when I wake up is when true
Nightmares startĀ
And at the mercy of the world am I.
Now I think the days
Can be kind.
I decide I can even fall between the lidsĀ
Of other's eyes
Being seen as me
And not being accused of being a liar.
Ā
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