maybe I could do it all again
and this time
remember which hands are mine.
find the cracks in the wall
and sky. don’t drink the water.
stay uncomfortable. not get used to it.
if I could just
hold the truth close to my body.
keep a handful of memories,
just enough to be less afraid.

hold onto your polaroids,
hide them in dumpsters if you have to.
somewhere they won’t think to look.
close one eye so you can see the picture
despite the glare and burn holes.
pull your punches, keep them in your bag
and keep your bag on your back
and fight for it if you have to.

pick your own pockets
when you get back.
you can cry again
because it isn’t over now.
it’s never over if you can get back to it.

when the water warps the floor
just like last time,
act surprised. your survival might depend on it.
lick your wounds when no one’s looking.
have an idea of where you’d run to
if you had to run.
sleep on the top bunk. be the first to see it coming.
if they tell you to move on,
don’t.

I could do it better
if I could do it again.
If I could sleep long enough
for the damn thing to play in its entirety.
I know how to play dead now
and the right moment to ressurct myself.
I recall enough to fix what happened.
rewire the past like a hot cube tv set
or a watch with quartz vibrating at the center.

the trouble is hindsight
and how stupid it makes you feel.
if you could send me in,
I’d do it surgically.
I wouldn’t make a mess.
if I could have been older earlier,
if I’d tied off the artery,
if you let me make use of what I’ve learned…