i think i am smoking away all of my brain cells
what i mean is that i am worried
i am turning inward
instead of outward
that my anxiety is making new anxiety
to befriend
instead of skinning it off my body
for a moment trying to breathe outside of its leather cloak
its suffocating coat

i do not know how to be an arrow
i only know how to name names
to read myself into the sky
to extend a shaky hand and then withdraw it
before we get to touch

i want to be a spectrum of light
a place we all meet
to arm ourselves with chosen weapons
to embrace each other and a certain efficacy

dreams of grandeur
only grand before i realize
i don’t know how to generate
a vision that materializes

i do not know how to be an arrow
i just have words


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