i infect my lungs with the undoubting presence. i can imagine the future lying still on my back. i learned to let go in third grade. i've held myself together through years. i have expendable friends, baskets of cliches and a locker to hide them away. i show my right side in the daylight, but the wrongs counteract the absence of sunspots.

i found your underlying meaning beneath the bed. still dirt thin and lower than soot. the intentions you point at me drain me from myself.