The First Note

I’m Done Pleasing

It is for the sake of believing
that I’m wondering backwards from the tide

I was born too late for.
Is reality in the mind?

I know my soul is sharp like shattered glass,
and that we no longer know time.

So don’t divest feeling into any one thing or fool,
threaten the memory with death

or maul colour from butterflies,
that swim in the sea folk air.

Don’t joke about the fragility of the mind
or how easy it is to wander away.