broken down

i read and i’ve been read
but who will be there when my calm falls
like my hand to the table
like her eyes to the ground

i am in disrepair
the flexible plastic tubing
which held my life in respectable bounds
has been stolen
leaving my fallen facade leaking slowly to the ground

i can’t afford the new tubes
and bringing back the old ones may cost me even more

so i will sit here quietly
i will not talk or sing
keeping my calm
i will not speak in the clichés which would be the end of me

my final disconnected spigots
leaking out the last of my deluded self