if you could feel the blood 

coming off my bones

in the sheer hopeless strapping

of me

and all that I am

buried beneath who you are

and all that you want

me to be..

if you could feel the vibrations 

that start in my head

and end in crescendos 

of doubt,

stirring up panic

and endless remorse

‘neath the time worn cracked floorboards

and grout…

if ever you stopped

for a moment past you

and looked for a second 

where i,

would sit huddled in shadows

of hope gone all wrong

just scratching in skin

to get by…

if process prevailed 

and air took its toll

and clouds moved by

what could have been, 

perhaps in past death

of a soul once worth hope 

would lie life that never

was seen..

..and if sun ever came 

and my face ever showed

and my thin arms could ever 

lift me,

perhaps there in fielding

of all that you’re not

would lay seeds of what i

might still be…