Fourteen.

Shutting everything off,
shutting everything down.

There is peace in these bones
and it courses through my fingers
as words tumble,
cartwheel, pirouette
across blank pages.

No sound can
unravel me,
no smile can
distract me,
no flash can
unnerve me,
no pain can
disturb me.

There is peace in these bones
that wait to be useful,
wait to have purpose, meaning,
wait for thoughts to flow
and flood and drown, drown, drown.

Shutting everything off,
shutting everything down.