titles are for chumps

these are the accumulations, the teeth of
my downward spiral, a
double helix of
everything I am unable to mutate out of

I am jealous of the birds
for their escape artist exit strategies
(my roots aren’t even deep enough to

hold me upright.)  You had a nightmare,
you tell me, where I was thirsty and you
offered me water that killed me when I drank it

I am surprised and pleased to find a metaphor that
finally makes sense