It’s four something or other

alone with the thoughts

gnawing at wiring


(shit, it’s happening again- run?)

repeating phrases, confusing conversation

rolling sense of deja’vu

frantically looking for an escape

knowing full and well what happens next

(more confabulation)

rail car wild

and some rather unpleasantness later

there’s bitterness

guilt and several days under the blanket

(I am safe here, rocking softly)

convincing a naysayer over the rightness of a left-handed whip

makes as much sense to leave

as to stay

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