Looking into a thousand-yard stare

What did I hold in my hands that I do not now?

his menacing frown,
or the nerves rambling in my gut
as he would intentionally
stand behind me

& suddenly the thought flat-lines because
I just don’t have it in me
to complain or too readily emote since
long ago I let go

so much so
only his death was left
& looking him in
the face
one too many
times

Inside-out

Your assumptions
feel louder than the reality over which
you assume

it’s that first person perspective that seems to lead into the right

like the inability to question your own behavior
before it becomes externalized
for others to observe