Perception

The irony of the funk. What I need

is a break.

A reset.

Time away to feel the spark again.

To feel the loss, 

The itch under my skin

That I'll crawl for someone to scratch.

What do I do? 

Push harder. Look more. Try to

force

The connection. Because I can't bear

To have failed again. 

It is me, I think. It can't not be.

If I knew the why, or how,

I’d fix it.

Instead I fumble around in the dark.

A headless chicken,

As we say where I am from.

Driven by need, trying to squeeze

blood out of a stone. 

Submission out of a disenfranchised 

Heart.