Maybe I’ve been too complicated, shifting through shifting sands, belated
phone calls that eat up my minutes, that tip through the sentence,
that burden the judge laided down, with a face like mine and a profound
beak that distilled truth into a bite sized cure all.
Maybe the time is right, to twist and shout, and fling through the night
and come up at the dawn. To shout at the sky, to walk away from the lies
that have kept me cracked inside. My voice breaks with the sun.
Inside, I feel that I’ve already won.
