Burnt

Out in the fields,

all remains

impossibly still.

-

I collect my loose change,

place another tooth into my pocket,

and watch the clouds grow darker ahead.

-

A distant yelp, a faraway sound,

shattered fragments,

soul lost but not found.

-

Their muscles so much stronger,

their cogs forever turning

and oiled,

-

but my springs have snapped and straightened

the machinery collapsed,

and it wasn’t the freedom that we thought it was

-

it wasn’t

the freedom

that we thought it would be

-

Instead, I’m in bed,

failing to gather the scraps.

The sun forces itself in

-

between the blinds

but it remains

so grey in here.

-

I make the bed,

come back to it,

and see chaos in its place.

-

I see the mirror

Its glare burns my skin,

I don’t dare

-

look at

my

face.