Black Out

This document will be given directly to the above noted client, thus no Release of Information form is required.

This /ˈdɑkjəˌment/ [

Let me put it in these terms,
What does sorrow look like?
I’m tired of making a spectacle
I’m no art display
Still feeling like a performance piece,

So, where’s my Oscar?

‐ I’m not pretending. God please. Please. Please. Please.
‐ What will it take for you to believe me?

]

will be given directly [

Here’s the question again,
What does sorrow look like? To you?
Is it me hunched over with an ache in my stomach?
My ribs as instruments beating over my chest, in song for you?
Trauma, in the form of a story to be retold?

Rhetor plagues me because how do you describe this
Mess, that other, that pulses with the same beat as mine
Fear paralyzes and I’m - I’m
So tired of doing all these things expected and

And

I have run out of words.
]

to the above noted client [

What is myself?
What is this idea of “self”?

Every morning I wake up with a temporary forgetfulness:

Here’s all of the things I remembered from this morn: I
love banana bread
I love the sun on my hands but not in my eyes I
love that I can love-

I’m looking for more but I can’t find it

Can you remember the first time we met?
Because I don’t.

How do I know you again?

]

document [

How much does honesty phase you?

‐ Look at my bared teeth and bones
‐ This is who I am.
]