i walk through my confused house, i pass in and out of soft rooms, looking for something, lost and forgetting. where i am and why i got there, questions i can’t think but i can feel. soon it becomes not a task but a rhythm, like a dance and i’m not remembering the steps fast enough. i move my eyes and body, listlessly searching, and i can’t see anything. i get scared when i can’t find it, what i don’t remember, and fear presses the rhythm. my hands are bright-light broken glass. it stabs in cold stare-and-panic pulses, and my mind stabs back. the next part goes “i can do anything.” meterless and tuneless over and over i sing   I can do anything. over the broken light and forced heart beat bulbs the steps don’t come for a long time. and eventually i will sleep.