Tell me what you think of this poem?

Suffocating On Possibility:

The past doesn’t lie &

when it does it’s usually

memory hoping against the turning tides

that things could have turned out for the better

but we’re here now & this is all there is

as

wishes are as real as genies

are as real as hopes are as real

as dreams

Possibility closes off ever more as the ticks of seconds

fall into place, clicking like a combination lock

Our experiences are slaves to our potential, our dreams are the fictional master we wished we had

I deserve to be a slave

& it is

my potential which are the chains that bind me, while their potential are the wings that carry themselves so seamlessly off to my dreams

This world & it’s petty whores weren’t worth torn seams

but they still have a tendency to play part of dreams

& I audition them myself

as they pass me in the streets & more the rarely malls of America

or most often scrolling up screens pressed upon by hands capable

at least of putting those presses behind them.
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