The pretty birds perching,
          I stared chalky .

I was just a pendant waiting
                             to be worn.

But I just sway here loosely,
          gravity is paused till
I intend to collapse into
                           breathless

Nothingness..

But the birds are my friends,
           perching here keeping
me company, I feed them...

Not of wanting,
                                but of necessity.

                                     I stare blankly,
I've nothing left to give..

But the flock, they keep me company..

The night is cold. The night is long.

I'm talking to people, but they don't hear me.
'Cause they're all gone.

I stare up at the smoke detector on the ceiling as it blinks like a red street light.
Why does a smoke detector have my attention?
Not sure but,
the ceiling is pure white like a sky filled with clouds.
The walls are battleship grey that bring in storm after storm.
The room is chilled by ac which brings a chill down my spine like after a storm's rain brings a storm's wind behind it.
The smell of burning wood from the campfire next door now seeps into my bedroom.
The smoke detector still blinking in that pure white cloudy sky now looks like a ufo.
I tug my sheet up to neck in case any aliens fall from my smoke detector and turn out to be vampire aliens.
I wait for total darkness to soon overcome my bedroom, it always does every night.
It's then that my eyes get heavy and I forget what I was writing about....🤷🏻‍♂️

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
-👷🏻‍♂️-

just let me suffer alone
I’ve done it before
I’ll sit all alone on the bathroom floor,
I’ll leave all the doors closed.

I don’t want to be seen,
on the fourth day of no shower
I don’t to be seen
when I can’t move or scream

I do not want you to worry
don’t bother to check in
I’ll be a mess that belongs in the bin
do keep your eyes of me, keep your eyes blurry

So leave your worry here and leave
but please do not grieve
you do all you can
but in the end it was my hand

Yes, I am still alive.
but I
no longer enjoy
the senation of
air entering
my lungs

Why is contentment
Such an illusory state
Slinking out of reach?

Dear Love,
I keep thinking
you have taught me
everything thing there is
to know about the word pain,
then I make the mistake of loving again.
                                                
                                                              Sincerely,
                                                                            Self