April Fox

We wake up weary
every day, bone ends
pressing against skin turning
shoulder blades and kneecaps into
steel-edged parts of some
construction project
Doorknobs
Window sills
Things to turn and get out
rest your chin on and watch the 
rain
take over the lawn
bleeding bloody rivers of mud
between the sad, bedraggled
patches of grass that grow
between your ears

What is this? That woke us up
the sound of hunger
or of thunder 
the feel of something wondering
underneath our flesh
what we're doing here
Questions screamed like nightmares
whispering hello

I've got you here
while you're asleep

Walking backwards, looking sideways blinking back the tears
that never come, it's all a farce, they say
Surely you must cry
sometimes 
I don't. 

I explain myself as best I can, the logic and the 
lack of fear
I am watching my own life
like a series
on TV
wanting just to fall asleep
but hooked on what comes next cause holy shit
It's getting weird. 

Wake up weary, tired ready
ready
fucking READY
realizing life is speeding slowing down
spinning
This is real
Wrists like doorknobs
Skin like paper, pages in a book
read a thousand times or more
soft and calloused on the edges
Lungs breathe in
Our
Heart beats in spite of everything
Lust and curiosity
Rage and happiness
Fingertips that make like footsteps 
walking up my spine

Wake up weary
Bones like iron, heavy
Pressing flesh to flesh. 

Outside the storms are building
attracted to the metal in our veins
They can't get in
I've become small
Atomic

Wake up weary 
and alive.