it is the problem with writing
no matter what is penned to the page an unimagined selfie emerges. the single click image allows for deeply masked lies.

there is a space in me

dark and dank
it is not a real space
instead it is one of negative imaginings
echoing with words both real and inferred 
that I’ve wrapped and wrapped 
hidden away
i fight to stay two planes up
from this mawing archive
but too many consecutive depeopled days
residing in my woods
i slip into to these mawing archived imaginings
which unwrap and ravel how badly I suck