Running on heartbeats
I used to jump from dick to dick,
Using all my fuel to glower,
coal-hard, claws out against the glass.
I am tired now.
Gunning out words gives me no rush.
I’ve been burning dirty fingerprints
to make way for a clean slate.
I’ve stepped out of the bell jar to
realise my name is Alice
and I wonder how populated I would be if
I stopped being mad before I was old.
I am tired now,
but I am no longer angry.
Just because I want to take it
slow, doesn’t mean I want to