Colder nights mean upright collars and warm contemplation, leave me alone as I isolate, far from ideal this is the time snatchers reveal mad intentions, prefer silence instead of mentions, bracing for bitter cold I’m a jigsaw puzzle without directions, asking God to break my tendencies to lean on my own understanding, praying to be humbled lines sorted not jumbled, constantly concerned what God thinks of my posts and mumbled mumbles, writing to release pressure does it mean anything a strange scale to measure better be more concerned with heavenly instead of earthly treasure back and forth between mercy and I should know better am I’m too light on myself punishment via feather am I where I belong, cold without a sweater?
Block 23
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