Everyone wants pockets
In their garments
Yes
In their memories
Not so much
I hold many items
In pockets
Attack
Lies
Campaigns
Scores
Lights O’ the Gasse
Financial and Emotional
AND
Physical
Sabotage
The interactions are few now
And I see
The people
And the plants
And feel the need
For the point blank vulnerability
Which
Requires
Heavy unloading
And severing connections
To my pockets
Full of blood coal
Reaching in
Hoping to eliminate
I grasp
And CHUCK IT
Only leaving
My hands
My digital feelers
Fully dusted
In the remains of a broken heart
As it can be
Noticed
It can be recognized and avoided
Who has time for that
What renders
A folk
Unable to ask
Is the same that baked them
In shame from the start
The second another being
Comes round
The minute aching need
Creeps in
Back in the shell please
I’m not wired
For such things
I am plugged in
To my pockets
Attached
To adhesive
Sticky
Moments
That buried
My ability to be vulnerable
And in turn
Cripples my
Ability to find
Such
Suitable
Situations
To be vulnerable in
