every time i press
post i assume that
it is the last time
words will be there
to catch my fall.
to attest my all. 
or hear my call. 
this is so etched
into my operating
system that from
the moment i dare
to say not fair
or that i’m scared
to notice ideas
wandering at the 
outskirts of my
awareness its
kinda because i 
assume they are
there to rend
there to mend
there to defend
my heart and then
chew my bones.
you’d think their
low growls and
flashes of teeth
might make me flee
or make me see
or guarantee 
fear when the
dark comes
but some simple
split in my code
another mode
in cognitive load
a speck of dust
or lust 
or distrust 
likely between
the first 1
and 0 and the 
next has made
any pause on paper
a welcome gap
a final lap
a triggered trap
so slick and 
shiny that in
the end i fall
and easily 
into infinite 
awareness of my 
finite language. 
a friend once
said ‘of course 
you’ll forget’
no pause
‘your flaw 
is that you lack
the skills
the thrill
the will
to remember.’

One response to “fuelogy”

  1. I felt my heart beating faster while my pace of reading quickened from start to end.


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