i woke
to find
part of me
had gone

missing
over night.

the problem
is

with so many
missing parts
how do you tell
a new gap
from

the old.

the ever
dwindling
cage of
consciousness
bones
or impulses

keeps the
array
of insidious
worries
doubts
fears
and
misinterpretative
dance numbers

to damn near
overflowing.

so i will
continue
to dance
with the twitching limbs
of an
electrified

hell.

it is all
i know.

saint vitus
the rictus grin
of pulsing synapses
in the guise
of
wretched wonder.

flop along
if
you know the

words.

let the
idiosyncratic beat
numb
your senses
into a stew
of insecurities
as the cantankerous
old souls
spit malice
between blinking
memories.

losing parts
of
ourselves
we didn’t know
could

vanish

in an effort
to be more in line
with the ghosts
that haunt
the cathedral

of hope.