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

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