In Which I Don't Know.

so here it is,
that overflowing empty breath,
ragged and rasping and hot.
that old face you never recognize
the first time.
those claws
pulling everyone under you
to hold you up
despite their pleas and protests -
i'm not a foundation, i'm not a rock, i'm a person.

here it is again,
that useless vacuum,
those wet blurred intersections.
those lonely spaces full of secret
primal screams and old infected scars,
and you know them more than yourself
(you know everything more than yourself).
that clinging familiarity,
that revulsion.