Telling a story, like I’m just a seanchaí
I wonder what the world will think of me 
When I reveal 
That I am more than what I feel 
And the imperative consciousness 
Finds a way to address
All that I’ve been needing to know
I held on to something but it let me go
Long ago 
And the persecutor 
Was no interlocutor 
To spindle me on threads
But I’m lying in bed
And wondering why I 
Feel as if I’m going to die
And the darkness around me holds weight
But there is no hate
On my side
Only a desire to stay alive
And she’s breaking brittle bones
With stones
That she throws
I look outside and it snows
In the middle of winter
The hinterland 
Is green but hidden 
And the pain came unbidden
It rose like the middle of the night
To wake me and ask me if I was alright
But I’m not 
Or have you forgot 
What I said to you 
I trusted and the thing fell through