socket

feeling so lonely today
even with people 10 feet from me

looking at photos i shouldn't look at
through rose-glasses at times that weren't
like i remember them now

what is it that keeps me turning around?
sometimes the hole feels like its growing.
gravity-fed, rusting
i weigh a million pounds
and remain invisible.

push on, i know it will go away
i know it will return, too.
i am alive yesterday.
paint peeling, rust creeping, dust settling.

straining muscles sore
dry socket eyes.

this thin air

i smell you when i wake
i swore that i could feel
the whispers in my head
"i wish you were real"


i know i dream in color
the shades of flesh and hair
the warmth still in my hands