To You

you win, the ball’s in your court and

I crawl into the sheets white
looking up, see glass walls
seep through the cracks and drive
fast, the cars fly by, looking forward, I see beside me
innocence
reaching out to touch and feel nothing
surging
my mouth opens, the words coming
are not planned
fearful
of what’s said
choking back the
truth shackled,
One breath transforms
a mind burdened with possibles,
the words squeak out here
and there
buckling
no sense,

Silence speaks incrimination
blinds shirking thoughts and
broken syllables
doing somersets and rollovers
The spectator, no control

Rolling out of sheet black
reconciling
a heart retreated,
taking obligated emotions and tucking into metal encasing,
the keys locked,
turned, lost,
not gone

Resulting in motions raw, acting out substitutions,
comprehending crime but not yet realizing