Fear Is Not In Silver

I catch time in my hands
It doesn’t disappear
Quickly enough
She scrolls
Through her family
I watch
Over
Her shoulder
They stole me
Mine
The picture of myself
So strong before
I shuffle through days
Hospital corridors
Benches
Walls
Cardboard piss bottles
Chipped off murals
The wasp lingers around
The bus
Stop
I turn my back on it
It does not go away
There is so much dead skin in the air
It floats
In anticipation of
Something
One more today
Two more tomorrows
Ants in the sky
Birds underfoot
The vicar asks if I am ok
As I sit
As if at peace
Waiting to be received
Maybe I go
Just for her to ask
You know
The silence
Is neither fearless
Or serene
It is a false rock
Stuck in my belly
Waiting to be spewed
There is no kind face
To look at
To look for
I barely see mine
Me
Any more
She draws bridges and paths
A stick figure in a skirt
I want to scream
Enough Enough
Shut up Shut up
You are tripping up time -
And I do not wear a fucking skirt
Instead I nod false boulders
That is the trick
The lie
They think it’s real
But a life with no magic
No silence
Is very far from real
It is a death held in dandelion arms
minutes seconds hours
Drifting away
Lost
Summer’s last hoorah
You fucking idiot.

I have tested you in the furnace of affliction
See, I have refined you, though not as silver

Silver waits inside me
All around me in blue.