disconnecct/ed

The soles of my feet have seen so little but they are calloused as if we walked the world twice, once for my own desire and the next to see how many miles it takes to kill happiness. Instead, I've got skin miles thick and a heavy tongue that keeps whispering to the ground. Maybe at one point, the two will split the difference and we’ll fill my mouth with dirt. An elaborate word garden growing in the middle of the coldest winter. Budding flowers caught between my teeth and toothpicks just make them restless. With leaves pressed firm, hiding in the corners of cheeks. I am not choking

Yet.

But the gravel lining. 

The brick blockade,

branching off the back of my throat

Is slipping 

I can only take such large bites

Holding so much at a time

Letting the earth roll around the clumps.