Delete Key

how is it possible
that i sit here in this hallway
myself stuck to the floor
a boulder over my chest
for an invisible thought
that magnifies in abstraction?

There's no point to this
half the things we are---
just made up lies
and swallowed down truths
there has to be a line
that tells me
i'll wake up
and know what is real.

I am who i am
i cannot be anyone else
yet i fear what i do
what i can make of the things i know
so i gravitate myself to warm wood
and feel the weight of rock
over me
grounding me
whispering reality as it should be.

You, they,them
are all figments of cable wires
beneath the ocean floor
sooner to erode in the movement of plates
and in the anger of the earth
like mere thread they break:
easy
clean
precise.

This is truth
and nothing i can do
will change it,
for i am stuck here in this hallway
with a boulder over my chest
and a delete key
waiting to be used.

waiting for me.