from: Bharat jiva 43-44

in some ways
I am afraid
I've been someone
in a headache of dust
not adept at advocating for souls
transpiring away in crevices
between smithereens and darkness
instead I grasp
pronoun logic
the texture of cement
picking at the present tension
one that has been mostly
a b-side on repeat
with a skip
at best
a disassociation of matter
sinking profoundly in progress
preparing to enter as nothing more
than a presence
dark above
the clutching hand
of unconsciousness