Posted in stream of consciousness

Space For Rent

I am a study in the degradation of the human soul. Precisely measured and trapped by each small piece of past gathering dust on my clutter laden shelves.

Spaces of consequence are eternally lumbered from deceit to deceit as I pretend in a mirror and proclaim myself a minimalist.

Ounces of effort leak from joints and jowls too slow to understand and too burdened to disagree.

I struggle to settle, fight against the outlines of a person bearing my name. I grasp for dreams while never believing they belong to me.

This canvas, blank and forever in states of disaster, is a space defiled until I learn.

These walls are mine, mine alone, and there is no blaring sign declaring “space for rent” across my skin.

Posted in stream of consciousness

iPhone Prefers Ducks

I don’t mean to say it so much
But sometimes this world *d*ucking sucks.
And when I’m frustrated
I don’t really want my phone to trade my violent words
For small feathery creatures,
Perhaps in hopes it will quell raging digits.
Somehow it works and I laugh at the absurdity
Of our materialism
And our in love yet in loathe relationships
With AI and short fuses.
Then I think of you
And my words come to a jumbling, clotting stop
Because I’ve long preferred making myself small
In hopes that avoidance of everything big
Will render me no more than the innocent bystander to a life
I’ve never felt in control of.
Maybe I’ve always believed I didn’t deserve the beauty you gave me.
It doesn’t erase the emptiness,
Or the memories of the last time I truly felt home etched in my soul.
But I can’t type “fuck” because iPhone prefers ducks.

Posted in stream of consciousness

Where Have You Gone

I comb my drafts for moments when I was real.
A crumb trail back to seconds I couldn’t feel.
I throwback sour liquors and sweet wines, one small glass at a time.
I tell myself the rest can flood the drain if these will just numb the brain.
I wish my life away, churning day dreams.
I wait for the moment when my soul detangles from yours
When I can no longer feel your heart ache in my bones.
I’m afraid
If I can’t feel, you’ll cease to be real.