LR

Can you still see straight through me?

(translucent and incoherent as ever)

I’ve wished that you hadn’t known me forever

since you know that my impulses can’t control me.

Afraid that you’re sick of me,

buzzing like a honeybee

my thoughts have finally

escaped me as I guzzle down the water

that is medicated, lulling me to sleep.

A year of rest,

my brain foggy with the thought of how

we used to be —

desperation digging its claws

into the butt of a burnt cigarette.

But do you still see me?

because I don’t know how to be

The record skips

and it’s the end of the night —

but I cannot stand to leave a trail of footprints in the snow