Music Box
This isn’t going to work
one word after another word changes nothing
besides I’m fine
I’m always fine
even when I’m not
maybe it’s because my life is one long
piece of performance art
falling somewhere between
high church ministrel and gallows humor circus
the music plays
and look at me dance
always twirling
command performance
with a smile
or not
who cares I’m fine
sometimes yeah it’s too much
the grief seeps through
the box corners
weep a bruised stain
that when I reach out without thinking to call him
to tell him what hurts
forgetting he’s gone
forgetting he is the hurt
in that space of my hand reaching
before my mind remembers
that’s the happiest
that’s why words don’t work
words like snapshots, memory and thought
fix my feet in place
lock my limbs making me the robot
the happiest is in the forgetting