those were times where only fantasies could fill the gaps, unexplained processes,
hell I didn't even know how to pay my taxes and yet it was a magical place.
I lost that now that the cogs in the machine have a place,
there's not a lot to find with every rock I toss into the river,
there' no splash.
I miss feeling like I belonged in the incorrect place: in my family, among my high school friends;
feels like I've lost it now, there's no need for them to see me but there's this innate need for me to know they are there,
but they scurry away, shush, keep their silent distance to remind me I built this,
I am too a victim of the machinations,
and if blood is blood and can never let go, then I am to blame for who made me,
who raised me to keep the quiet and only take what I needed.
I miss the time where that idea didn't cross my mind,
but now it's Friday and I see it
it's staring down at me from the bottom
of the
laundry pile.