like cicadas, her path is blocked (dizzy with companionship)

so there’s this girl

every Sunday night, she pays a visit to my hospital bed 

she likes to trace empty patterns beneath synthetic blankets

they never stay on for long around her and the ice she smashes in December

shivering, she is wireless and caged

no, we don't know what to do with her

she whispers something to me at night, though I'm never allowed to hear

a thick accent brought on by bile, lying where she should be I

Summer comes and the curtain separating us thins with the sun

she doesn't speak of home, she doesn't speak of me

no place to stay but she likes it that way

gripping glass plates because she knows whats inside

hair falls and this fall she moves

unbeknownst, she tells me there's this girl

eye worms litter her vision, but because she's sleepy from screaming

she falls but she's dizzy from companionship

she's chilly after a snow storm, shoes tracking in squeaky helium

this fall she moves but she never really runs far

locks scatter woods where new life wakes the baby

and somehow it's perfect

and somehow it's mine

I'll fall ill again

Again again again

Until my ears pop with recollections of karma

Ladders and bridges lead to cemeteries some how, don't ask me

Laying somewhere there, there's this girl

Unknown to anyone but reverberations of someone I was before

I watched her skin shed and jealousy rakes my body every fall

Though like cicadas her path is blocked

maybe I'll help her up

maybe I'll give her love

just about relapse and growing to accept and forgive your past self. and getting better