i’ve noted i’m telling the same stories over and over again

moments of confusion

an inability to do simple chores and tasks

telling the same stories over and over again

tempura deja vu

lightly fried

temporally

in a wok

telling the lame stories over and under again

moments of contusion

repetition

the sky is gray and looks to spit

sitting here paralyzed by the cold hand of dread squeezing my heart

ever tightening

this new spin on the same old spiral

comforting and

stainless steel deli meat slicer set to extra thin

the whirring of the motor

how thin is paper thin really when it comes to nerve damage at the molecular level

telling the same stories over and over again

confusing moments of clarity

stomach cramps, doubled over

they, i assume it was they, held the rag to my face and forced me to

certain colors were muted while others were overly pearlescent

i tiptoed across a meadow

aware of vipers beneath the purple flowers

arrowhead shaped snapping fangs

telling the blame stories under and yonder again

momentous reclusion

minutes of inclusionary discipline

over and around again

confusing loops of yarn wrapped around the branches of coniferous illusion

pinecones for breakfast

needles for warmth

sticky from sap and gently stabbing

gently stabbing

poking really

with a blade into the soft skin

a slip of the wrist and

well

over and over and over and over again

moments of conclusion