4.25.19

BY COLIN ALEXANDER

I’m losing it, what little I have.
My fingers slip just through my hands,
Grains of sand like grains of sand.

I’m losing it, what little I have
Arching back for a final laugh,
My head she quietly smashes in half.

Bones and blood re-forming as one,
Shining bright the sickening sun
The heart of the head not yet undone.

From the shore waves come and go
But seas the sunsets sleep below,
Giving into Earth’s undertow

I’m losing it, what little I have.
Where once there was a body I stand,
Grains of sand like grains of sand.

From day to day we all must die,
That left inside set free to fly.
No hope but faith left justified.

While whirling gusts rip limb from limb
Only dust slips through the sieve.
No skin no teeth no heart that beats and yet
I live.

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