just a little untitled lunch-hour dealie from me today...

you've waited too long
to shore up your mind,
correct your spine,
you've been eroded
by the small winged worries
that live on blood,
use your energy and patience
to make their little nests

you are brittle now,
always holding a glass
of milk, hiding small nicks
on your skin
with styptic fingertips

you sit and bite
at the air, arms too worn
to wave away gnats
no one else can see