zef

No one really heard me say
that i didn't want to
maybe because I really did
I am not sure why
I can't decide what I want to do

everything seems enticing
revolting and boring
but if I could try it once
I'd put a few extra ounces behind my punch
take them down for good.

did I run to save myself
or was I afraid of what he would do
if we worked together
created together
destroyed one another?

It's not regret that keeps me
from trying to become
the things that I imagine
but a fear that I will be
exactly what I create

What if I make a mistake
put one molecule of me
in the wrong place
the walls crumble and deny
the greatness they once upheld

I am not really the healthiest
of humans, trading and pursuing
everything that's not good for what's now
rolling past the hand that heals
to the foot the crushes under


Unsettling distress
from feeling tormented
wrapped in words that merely suggest
but do not implore understanding
through the pain of living

To describe the hesitation
thoughts reeling with frustration
of the myriad of possible directions
selections and conceptions all the wondering
should I do something or not

bricks replace my feet
my legs become concrete
my hips dead wood/stumps
my torso incomplete
no head to describe what man existed where this body once stood.