Lights out at nine

When we’re lost for something to say because the way that words are,
they don’t go far enough and all that stuff about transparency
hides me from what truth there might be if I had the words to express the feelings that howl within me which I hold deep in my chest.

is not a fire alarm test,
a standard procedure or
a mixture of either
it’s for real.

Even a dictionary cannot help me for I am lost and have lost
the survival instinct
I’ve become some adjunct and how can that be me?

Time is the feeler gauge
healing rage
mending fences

this man tenses
fearing the worst.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.