I pretend it’s what I need, agree we’ll do it your way. Check boxes in your eyes, you want me to go away.
I nod at your cues, I sign where you point. You know my name and gender, when I smoked my last joint.
You know of my mistakes, a few routes of my pain. I know nothing of you, but - this is for my gain?
It’s a ready made answer, for my textbook woes. Learn to top my meter up, keep my door closed.
But what do I do when the lights go out, when the searing silence reheats my doubt?
When I must reflect, confront, maintain. When my crutches are gone, and I’m totally lame.
When I miss the stars, cold air on my face. What’s my identity, now that I’m a case?