Unconscious

Halves and shapes rotate to Dispel me into awful corners While drafts from portraits Pictures of wind that scatter me Like rain or empty threats Crowd to be small enough I hope for hoping enough Will see me through the day Slightly bearing my weight If only for a while There are strong angles Cutting letters for reading Deep into my skull That's happily arranged I know But if too late is right Then too early directs me And I will follow none to such lengths As destroying my destination Even one so well and timely happened