to feel trapped,
once and twice
drilling holes into the wall
all I do is tremble
rumble through the bricks
back stab bramble

to feel seen,
a few times more
tracing lines on tile
filled with the vile
bile
of water borne, torn
trials of rye

to feel caught
as a fly
a mile up high
breaking and falling
to a pile, drying
hiked to nothing but lighting