PULSE

Blood on the bed sheet
My thumbs hurt and skip
Letters and their words
Because typing
And shit
This world is covered with
Poses and stage lighting
I just put ‘ear’
plugs in
My thumb typed
‘war’
Just then
My mind sits placid
Here
Rocks weigh down the
Current dear
Why can’t I surface
Find a real something
A sun or a moon or
Whatever is above me
Hit that slit
Is that it
Clean float to
Surface
Inhale the
right thing
Above a screen
Outside of a lens
Beyond a proper word
Away from my bed
Where is the breeze
Where is the breeze
Where is the breeze
I want to breath
Into the space
Above my heart
Wait where are the lungs
I want that part
Hit my face breeze
Take my hand light
Forgive my mess mind
I’m down here
Clear

christine hauer