Patterns

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I remember you shouldering so much weight of that moment, I don’t think she would have wanted it that way I’ve been in so many messed up situations, but can’t imagine being you during that time I remember the funeral so awkwardly surreal, like an act of appeasement, and all the politics surrounding it I see you now and it makes me happy that you still have shreds of your sanity left I know how hard it is to keep, even when the grieving settles I don’t think enough about you two, or those times in the past It’s so easy to numb ourselves to the turns of life, like the last line of defense to worlds beyond our control The sun shone bright those few days, conflicted with the darkness cast It hasn’t shone as brightly since I know that it hasn’t Hidden Partner Traveled with me throughout these years, silent companion waiting in shadow, dragged out of the box when I need an expression, there like the crutch feeding off my limp One can’t move without the other Feeling muscles at length in my legs tightening, frightening when I walk Little anchors just hanging down, boiling over to jump out of my skin 24
The colors within shadows can be intoxicating, they can cause paralysis, or can induce sleep Gray and raining inside my head, a wall to stop the march of time Hidden companion that few will see The New High The new high is the subtraction of pain Little bottles melting flesh into sheets Lying on your side, not wanting to move Burrowing under the peace of waiting, next day to turn over blinds revealing scarce light to mundane isolation Hatching complete control of the universe Staring blankly ahead and slightly out of tune Rails against your knees, a painful communion Yesterday’s issue, the present comfort Morning Meeting We’re watching the photograph burn, chemicals hissing from the fire Gone is the dream of functionality, the thought of it was comical We laid out plans in blueprint, mapped a route to our success, 25
Page 3: Patterns of Reconciliation Matt Mau
Page 6 and 7: Introduction from the Prism of Past
Page 8 and 9: the exchange in Doraville - ‘Old
Page 10 and 11: was the last time I’d ever set fo
Page 12 and 13: exchanging vows at a church on a su
Page 14 and 15: You know all too well because your
Page 16 and 17: a passing day it has become The gre
Page 18 and 19: Sands-a-slippin’, the tide’s wa
Page 21 and 22: Part Two Determination of Deteriora
Page 23 and 24: epeating tender moments, and the sa
Page 25: An unconscious escape, just coining
Page 29 and 30: Waste high in deep panorama, life m
Page 31 and 32: weeping of our brothers and sisters
Page 33: only false consolation Eras die off
Page 36 and 37: Not Easily Resolved You packed for
Page 38 and 39: Am/Are a Shadow I am a shadow whose
Page 40 and 41: This was carefully thought out Just
Page 42 and 43: ack into the stream, the movement t
Page 44 and 45: The lonely call to action, random i
Page 47 and 48: Part Four Post-mortem or Rebirth 45
Page 49 and 50: When we met, I’d asked you where
Page 51 and 52: Breaking free is understanding the
Page 53 and 54: Blood Mediation in Transit Funny ho
Page 55 and 56: illicit gifts sent inconspicuously
Page 57 and 58: The brilliant remnants of dissemble
Page 59 and 60: In Accordance With the Shared Visio
Page 61: 59
Page 64 and 65: Imprints & Post-Scripture Arrival,
Page 66 and 67: watching in waste’s rotation, a p
Page 68 and 69: Watching - lines of your fingers in
Page 70 and 71: ... Captioning a void, formerly a v
Page 72 and 73: choking on the pill and its packagi
Page 74 and 75: Questions aren’t unasked nor dign
Page 76 and 77:
News Cycle Each day is a process of
Page 78 and 79:
we’re entrenched in impressions d
Page 81 and 82:
Part Six Post-Scripture 79
Page 83 and 84:
Status Interruptus The body resets
Page 85 and 86:
The Spirit Vacuum Exploitive concep
Page 87 and 88:
waking moments waged from fevered d
Page 89 and 90:
Thank you - Bob Medina, Melissa Mil
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Patterns

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