not that I know of
I am restless
inside my makeshift cage
sticking my head out
between the barbed wires
maybe nicking my neck
a time or two
but always smiling
I don’t bleed like I used to
the clotting
taking its sweet-ass time
a reminder I should lighten up
on the baby aspirin
it’s hard to be seen
when there’s a sheet
hanging over my head
—no I am not a ghost
at least not that I know of
june two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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