Alone time

If I'm really alone for the moment,
its because I chose to be.
An empty silouette swinging against the breeze,
separating me from me.

The things that make a moment
are choices inside of me.
Find the meter markers
and cut off the blood and as slow as it takes,
count yourself to three.

I'm swinging into different accounts
at a place I was a kid.
A folding sort of tension smothers
in a much more complicated bed.

Theres a reason for today,
even if it changes,
I feel it stays the same.

I am the chains.
I am the seat.
I push myself.

When I'm separate from myself,
I'm detached from everything.