I left my elbow

on my bathroom sink

and my clothes

all over the floor

not quite alive

and not quite dead, I don’t think

I’m not young, anymore

miracles don’t land on top of the tree

they grow out of the ground


the frozen ground

while I watch

my shadow in the shower


cutting the black stuff away

it clogs the hole in my sink

and the pond leaves a pink ring

where porcelain once shined

chaos in the morning


at night

hair sprinkling

all over the floor

an empty mess

while I’m trying to grab things

with less time

more baggage

but I made it on board

even if I left

part of myself



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