Detachment Obligation

cant block it out

cant keep it in

drollness approaches,

plot wearingly thin

i don't even know

where or how to begin

do i heed the bubbles

that broil within

do i listen to my bones

as they creak

when i stand

do i read the lines

these fleshy tines

on the back of my hand

do i relinquish

the little control i think i have

and be a willing cog

in another's master plan

the blot out

another a cop out

these masking agents

these plastered stages

often tried yet never true

simple pleasures

carefully measured

then thrown like wind

into the blue

i can't touch the sky

my hands are soiled

i can't reach inside

so parts slowly spoil

invisible scabs

itch for attention

long sealed wounds

vye for a mention

scars and scrapes

lumps and bumps

cackle a chaotic chorus

to a tune,

to a dirge

attuned to the surge

immune to the purge

alive and absurd

a convoluted conduit

of hurt and dirt

a clammy culmination

of various excesses

a second best guessed yes

fully clothed but never dressed

a detrimental detachment fashion

fleeting frivolous fizzless passion

from obligational remorse

to manic inaction

a flimsy frail threadbare fraction