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  • Megg Kelly

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I can’t try if the lead won’t write.

I can’t live with a fever in the sun.


Can’t suffocate full of atmosphere.

Can’t breathe full of lies.

Can’t stop spinning my top on all I’ve missed.

Can’t stop thinking, what if?


if I could sit in the sun with a fever

if I’d burn so bright the light could never go, what if?


If I could think in just for now

and not in jammed film strips playing a dead scene

waiting to be seen.


She’s a hack in small dreams, they say.

Medicate yourself,

see how it feels then.


It’s all small talk

never big enough to be heard.

The playback button rewinds

to the parts I want to skip.


That place knows too much

said the mimic I’ve worn so long.

Impossible to move forward

on a script that won’t play.

Will I always be sad at the end of the day?

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