the days are falling out of me
one by one
i am a child turning into morning
looking for a line
a string with some direction
they know me to be angry
i find them to be useless
tie my hands like promises
i am counting always
these lines are only a fracture
a fraction
a piece of this project
like tomorrow
is just a part of the lonesome
i do not want to live in the margins of numbers
the negative space where we have learned to wait
from 31 to 18
18 to whole
holding you in the morning
is the only calm i know
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