I do it to linger

.

Struck with sleep
a hard blow
and no dreams
Where’s the implosion?
Nothing but aching walls
shedding paint like skin
heavy with burns

It’s your turn to remain oblivious
and call out my name in the dark
room of strangers
Where I stumble and fall
on my own lack of imagination

Preconceptual arrangements
for the taciturn
It’s an inversion of concern on my part
I swallow my tongue
and erase my own will
and then I carve out a smile from the edge of a scream
What about dreams?
The transparent nothings

I do it to linger

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