Sandman

I live in a sandcastle sculpted by my trace of mind sands stir as my thoughts swirl bath in golden rain

I lie flat like a skin sac watch ceilings crumble and collapse sands stuffing my empty inside my breath sandy and tears dried

I weather like a piece of toast an appearance of fossil underneath brittle don’t touch me — your kindness will kill me

Let me fall and obey the law the law of gravity, descending from the land of expectation leave me buried in dirt and desert a homecoming to a land of nothing

But they don’t spare me.

They shovel me into a linen sag punch me into shapes desired like a fermenting dough feed more mouths and silence them all

They dump me into a pool of cement building for a lofty future in the name of collaboration our hands dirty and tied

I lie dead in a high-rise building an appearance of metal beneath hollow

Don’t talk to me Your kindness will kill me

But if I may, ask you a favour —

Can you give back a piece of me?

(In case you want to read another piece of mine)