Lavender and Leather

Spiders and Whales

I spent a lot of time on the wheel again.
Just so I could try to maybe feel again.
By marionette path, my thick wooden feet
Try to retrace my steps with a paper and pen.

I wasn't prepared for spiders and whales,
For half empty shells, less empty than I thought.
Saccharine questions like hangnails.
Swollen with the words and the time they bought.

Never mind the weathervane's twisting.
I'm chasing dopamine, I just can't sleep.
Their webs too light, spouts just misting,
I'm already gone, I'm in too deep.

My wooden smile, carved and painted,
In the storefront window, I see my reflection.
Every move that I make, slightly acquainted.
Limbs swinging jaggedly in every direction.

Is that really me? Is that what they see?
I don't know why I thought I was flesh and bone.
The spiders and whales didn't care enough to tell me
That I had never once shown up alone.

I don't know why I never looked up
But this explains my contrition and qualms.
The past still runs thick through my dreams and my veins.
Like the strings, knotted so, in my palms.

I know we see the same stars at night.
The thought of it leaves me desperately unwell.
And every time he lifts a finger,
I'm under that dopamine spell.