My Own Private Mind

It happened when I was five or six. My dad was drunk after a late shift and was shouting about some asshole at work who couldn't hold his weight. It was cold outside. The kind of cold that clings to your skin and never lets go even when you're inside...

All the water is gone,
a stiff wind uppercuts the stubble on his face,
a endless horizon running every way,

Floating effortlessly in a skiff hoping I don’t drown.
I catch my reflection and wait for it to ripple away.
Icy to the touch, but if you let your hand stay submerged it’ll feel right.

Pulse pulling at the ears each new tune swooning silently through dreams upstream a skiff that wobbles and sways with the wind while sounds stick and guard my heart my head falls into every old scene gleaming globes of yesterday's first hug and kiss...