I think I will most likely view
The current version of me
With kind eyes and quiet approval 
Knowing that the external forces
Broke me to a point of no return 
I will remember these days 
With a wistfulness you only learn 
From looking back at the past
But for now I see myself lying in dread
And I remember a book as a kid I read
About a mom who always stayed in bed
Her son had died and the grief was strong
She asked for years why they’d choose him 
But eventually the pain began to loosen
She went out in the world,
Stepped out of the blur
A fictional mother but…
I keep thinking about her
How I also try to wiggle free but fear
The slack is always pulled up ’round here
No time for long conversation 
Introspection 
Or debate 
Take your fire to another place 
And so here I laid
Curated and paid
One day closer to the grave 
Drowning in my sorrow as a
Capitalist slave