Slow Rot Holy Heat

anchor

anchored,
i drag and scar the floor

i pull, the weight, to meet demands

how often do i feel alone?
how often do i say: one more.

there before me
just one more
to cross
to complete
to keep the score

by habit
i stay
by order
i function

interiority—
noted
set aside
counted

i know my faults
i built the life

and still
the wanting, unfed, presses
from behind the step
unnamed
unspent