to be real

This piece (I want to call it some sort of poem but it does not fit the category) is somewhat inspired by “The Words.”

his anger was somewhere else
though it seemed to project itself in his lashings at objects
whatever it was that was within his reach

but what he wanted to reach was not in the present interior
it was somewhere

the past

in which he could not tweak
he could not change
he could not touch
nor feel with his hands

and all he wanted
all he longed for
was not to run
but for him to be real
“i’m sorry.”