on the interstate
I feel like a virus in the bloodstream
of some massive beast.
I feel glad to be here.

I feel alot of things.

I feel ugly is underrated.
I feel apathy like hearing rats in the walls.

at least I feel anything at all.
really.

Of all the people
In all the world
I had to bump into you

Shame you were driving a  12 wheeler
And I was on my bike

Story of my life

but why do we always have to be
writing to or at someone?

mirror talk.
cheer them on until stars die,
all of them.

i wonder if perspectives could be
even more slippery than they
already are?

mirrors shatter in our faces.
blood in the sink.

all of it in all of them.

flowers grow from my footprints

hymns drifting out of cracked cathedral doors

I whisper seduction to any and all
stones awaiting the warmth of the
morning to end all R.E.M sleep
everywhere simultaneously

my alarm clock rang itself off
the nightstand a millennia ago

my heart is a billion moths swirling
beneath a farola fernandina in some
forgotten figment finally drifting
out of the immanence i heard you've been
searching for between drinks and pizza

eyes widen
moon smears across a stagnate pond
i bide my time with learning to disappear at dawn

the revenant has my face

mirror mirror on the everything

stakes

what's lost is lost is god is fog
rolling over the sidewalks
in neighborhoods of darker timelines
i might fall in love with someday

on my back in the dewy grass

is this what sky feels

you can have the wishes a better me would've made

i'm ok with it

im honestly cool with letting the plight of the heavy mind aesthetic
settle like diatoms into nautilus shells
bisected by The-Devil-Knows-Who
or even the Devil Himself
wearing hellfire like a Versace suit

it's all tangents
move past it