Perspicuity

I sit inside a window sill

and listen to my thoughts.

I sleep inside the voids unfilled
where new memories form new clots.

I see these images in front of me
that mar what I wish they were.

I reach out for you in the morning
only to grab a fistful of air.

I strain to live bravely in my definition of
that word, where was and is confuse
me and want and need are unheard.