I am adept
In the art of being okay
I have mastered the craft
Of covering my troubles
I use all sorts of fancy facades
Acrylic, oil, watercolor
You name it.
I can paint over nearly anything
You will never know
How late I was up last night
Or why.
My eyes flicker
Like candlelight
But you couldn’t see
You couldn’t possibly see
I’m too good
For that.
I can dance, too
Waltzing away my sorrows
Carefully tip toe-ing the
Pas-de-I-am-fine
I get a standing ovation every time
I’m very talented, you see.
But my all time favorite
Is my disappearing act
I’m still perfecting it
Right now
But one of these days
I’ll show you
How I
Slip
Slip
Slip
Away
Right through your fingers.
May 18, 2020
May 18, 2020 at 11:41 AM UTC
One last hope
May the everlasting fire come upon us
One last hope
you once promised me forever
not but an unrequited love
so it will be
For this is it,
One last hope.
May 18, 2020
May 18, 2020 at 11:36 AM UTC
I saw the sheer length of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the impermanence.
Are you upset by how vaporous it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the impermanence so gauzy?
Such disorder,
Above all others is the voicelessness.
Are you upset by how much that it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the voicelessness so so much?
A heartache, however hard it tries,
Will always be woolly.
Never forget the muddled and hirsute heartache.
Just like haunting obesity, it is the solitariness.
Belch. belch, belch.
The sullen moodiness,
Above all others is the moroseness.
A moroseness is sour. a moroseness is glowering,
a moroseness is dark, however.
The utter dissatisfaction,
Above all others is the ennui.
Are you upset by how dead it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the ennui so consummate?
May 18, 2020
May 18, 2020 at 11:35 AM UTC