unbuilt

There are devils in details
Softnesses lost
The gentle clunking of bone on bone
And realizing the stark reality
That we are breathing machines
As my layers have stripped away


My embraces are cold comfort
Given to few
Hoping they make no mention
Of how hard I’ve become


I miss relaxed ease
Sinking into rest
However I lay


Today I sleep with care
Stacking joints like Lincoln Logs
A perennial wish
To be someone
Somewhere
Made of something
Else