The pills will shut me down for now, a silence that this monstrous clawing has come to require. I am lightfooted and sure-eyed, smile a scalpel paring the excess from the path entreating my footsteps, but right now the building in my chest is in a state of collapse. I know this is necessary if I aim to rebuild a new temple I’ve never seen before, can only barely imagine. Creating a solid self from all of what has been broken down demands the sacrifice of stability: these moments when I am water-eyed instead, these moments when I am a fawn on trembling legs. I barely know how to human anymore, but it seems in this distillation I am more that than I ever was. So the pills will shut me down tonight, rocked gently in arms I’ll reinvent tomorrow- Press your hands to my face, sightless love, press the brand of your fingertips to my temples, my lips, and vanish like smoke when the chemical chasm opens up beneath me.

I wonder if I’ll dream of you.