I’m holding out, holding up, holding on, buckling at the knees, my mind in absentia.
This puts people on the alert, on the defensive, makes them think about throwing in the towel, circling around for a better look, feigning friendship.
This is when things get ugly, when I come out swinging with sucker punches, when my whole life flashes before my eyes.
Now’s the time to run helter skelter if you’ve got a brain in your head, time to pretend to be somewhere else, to look around for a pay phone. Good luck with that, but if you find one I may start dancing like a zoo ape, the closest I get to make-believe.
Make-believe is the only way I know to wrap my arms around love, and it usually turns out badly.