frame by frame

days bunch up in weeks

collaborate months against me. the sheets are stained with evidence that our remains are now

drifting away. i share with complete strangers my most personal of pleasures. i scribble tidbits of useless mind info- trash

treasure. spend hours

at my leisure

like sharpened precise tweezers. shifting through in the frame by frame

i walk the same path

i'll say the same lines

i do this every time

do this every time

dodging armpit stench aromatic

wrapped up in my own self-induced stress panic

i think i am the only one in this shifting through

they'll collaborate in months against me.