A Confused Man Thinks For Two Seconds

1.
A slight but vital twist
on recalling what I’ve seen;
stopping in the middle
of a thought —

did I say that evil or kind thing
to a woman, a girl, a boy,
a man? Did I, could I,
differentiate? Or

maybe I didn’t say it
at all, merely thought it
or most devastating —
I’m thinking of it now

for the first time, the
only time?

2.
I could sit with this,
I could; instead I sigh
out loud. I could tear out
what little hair

I have left — I’ve tried
to grow it to a stage
where I could tear it out,
after all, rage and grief

are important to me
as emotions I can support
having — but damn,
hair takes so long to be graspable —

instead, I sit, or stand, or shuffle off into the gap.
My brain stays. This is my way now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
onward,
T