Bas-tion

I.

Where were you
this sense of security
while I was curled on the bathroom floor

Twenty years old, suicidal
until I fell asleep under a towel
into what’s since developed
into restless habitual sleep

II.

Where were you though, really
this sense of fortification
twenty-one years old, pushed into walls

unable to find an escape hatch
one parent in Idaho
the other, in a motel

III.

Tell me, Bastion
where to find you
in the lonely blue-dark

I’ve looked for you
in everyone
all my life

IV.

Thirty-two years old
I’m lifting a new lantern

to see if you’re somewhere
inside myself


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