I.

It’s only me

and I am free

to sail away

on any day

and I will row

and blimp and blow

and nip the sugar in the sun

and gallop past the tire swing

and zip the apples from the tree

II.

It’s only me;

to all the world it comes with ease.

Chained to the bottom of

a pyramid with no stairs,

a castle in the air set aflame,

a dirt path home before a crackling cloud,

a truck too much to pull or push.

A passenger crumbling before

a captain on a storming ship,

who steers but won’t say why.

Locked crop rows with hardly sprouts

against a surplus, too many sales carts at once,

that shout ear-to-ear from too many sides.

A worm a-struggle through a tunnel who fits, but only just.

And all around flames hide and steal.

III.

It’s only me,

my love is none,

and now my days

are still.

I oftentimes

forget me why

my soul n’er cried

for now eyes do.

Rotten to the coeur,

a chunk of heart

that won’t renew.

IV.

Can you hear all right?

It’s working now? It’s come back on?

You already looked at those.

No, Bernadette is gone.

Don’t worry, dear, you’re safe,

I know, kids say the darndest things!

Oh wow! It is so nice outside!

I see, A pretty ring!

Hey, hey, hey, now, take deep breaths.

Does something hurt? Let’s see.

That’s right, I’m gonna lift your arm

Shhh. Dear… it’s only me.