chances

chances are, if you're aware
of it there's nothing much more
there to care
about it at all, suffice as to say
that i suppose it's something
you carry away.

what you don't
know can hurt you still,
and what you know
can not as well;
the blending white
envelops words
and worlds apart
your own hell.


call me early,
i'll be gone
for as long as i'll wait
i'll be heavy with the
passion, sorely;
i'm in no mood for saving
grace,
or for swallowed pride,
the kind i hate.