I was from tote bags (filled to the brim)

I was from cloth on fevered heads

I was the cacti on nature walks

And I am from the loosened threads

I’m between names - Evans and Floit

I’m between “be proper” and “be a man”

I’m between the steak and the cereal

I’m between trophies and bloodstains

The rickety porches and the creaky stair

The splintered wood and the peeling paint

Sunday dinners, the laughter and tears

Arguments and the whispered complaints

The past, the present, the future

It’s all so distant, but so am I

From life, from love, from personality

Make the most, and say goodbye.