It's the evidence we ignore
As I watch my eyelids burn
You look puzzled
But It's okay my feelings are small

Small enough for mice to carry
Away in dreams heavier than understanding.

And tonight I'll cry myself to sleep
Because I don't know how to fall.
I live here now; a crawl space
In time.

Where I scratch out of joy, but the pleasure
Is eccentric.

So I just bleed.