It took longer than I thought it would
To find a blank space
And my heart pounded loudly as I thought of
And began to write again
Thinking of the largeness
The impending alien landing at your forehead
Readying for landing
Like a hairnet
But the paper felt smooth to my steady hands
And for now, hope and excitement endured
Eight through eleven ran through me like knives
Killers
I thought of blood
Blue like atmosphere dripping down the sides of buildings
I lose [?] stomach
I got too involved
And stopped thinking
And my handwriting stood up a bit in these poorly worded confessions
And my brain
Like dragging hands
Reached to the not too distant past
Each snare drum kicked me back

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