So tired of neglect in the corners, hate rumbling under my feet, flashes of chokeholds that flares so deep… I dropped it — today with that empty room mildewed and moldy- the walls that seeped nicotine like witch fingers , the broken wall and mirror shattered –I don’t know why I’m here again sitting up against this wall so cold until my son finds me and reaches  & shakes me awake  Swerve-he says –smooth& alive– he hands me his words easily –shared inside  & within-  he says at each break, each breath– swerve– he did ..walking upright, no more guns to his head, no more cars hitting his friends, no more suicides to count just this new tokyo drift in and out- almost too fast with just enough glide— slide baby slide I say, remembering it’s all in the wrists — what you drop and what you forget.