To give it time,

to sink in ,

is to let it grow.

Like a bouquet, like a silent “t”

evident, but still no (t).

An open ocean, an open wound,

in the shape a of a vase.

I’ll have to get stitched up, just thinking about it.

I’ll decay with song and still be bulletproof,

just thinking about it….

I’ll decay with them…

Just thinking about it…

The waves will break will break with me,

and into me.

My stiches and my levees will break,

I’ll break, atrophied and still awake the entire time,

up to my neck in saltwater now.

Sinking with all the other non-ferrous metals,

and the non- ferrous everything else,

rusting,

climbing,

breathing,

reaping..

I am all of them.

(Originally published 10/23/2021 on Medium by Matthew Hopkins)