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 Dec 2018 Wanderer
Brandon
Do not jump at me
You crazy little grasshopper

I sit in the tangle of tall grass
Beating gently with the wind
I am no matter more than the dirt
From which the roots grow
And continue to shall grow

Do not jump at me
You crazy little grasshopper

I am not here where you aim
Recklessly in no regard to your landing

Jump above

Jump around

Jump another way entirely

Just

Do not jump at me
You crazy little grasshopper
 Dec 2018 Wanderer
Brandon
I have been spending
Too much time roaming
Inside the four walls
Of a big square oven
I crave the open
 Dec 2018 Wanderer
Brandon
I’m barely holding
the strings of reality together
I close my eyes
and I still see the silence enclosing
My blood burns and boils
without the option of an eruption
Keep the skin taught
like fragile emotions
God has a plan Be ******
Tethering to an anchor
cast into an abyss
It may barely be perceptible
When you trace lexicons
Like ****** ticks
But I’ve had enough of this
 Mar 2018 Wanderer
Brandon
I feel nothing tonight
As the clock ticks its seconds away
From the time when I should’ve been in bed
Hours ago
And the piano chords strike a note that used
To resonate deep in my bones
But my bones are hollow and hardened tonight
A surface fleeting of empathy
That sours the air around me and I sit
Unfazed
Waiting for a new ballad to dig up old haunts
To shed today’s skin and all the violence that raged contained
Like scriptures weaved through my nerves
Coaxing a rapture
As blood boiled in veins eager to rupture
Once again my head should be resting
Comfortably or as comfortable as I can be
On a pillow but still the early morning hours
And the long waking day dredge me from my slumber
Tonight I feel nothing but the wrath
Of someone parking their broke down van
Where my truck should be parked
When my eyes should be closed
And my head resting
Comfortably
Or as comfortable as I can be
On a pillow
Waiting for tomorrow’s alarm to go off.
 Sep 2017 Wanderer
woolgather
I know we've never talked in person;
Dumb, right?
Though once we open the chatbox
We'll talk like long met acquaintances

I know I've said a lot of spontaneous ****,
You'll patch them up with yours;
The moment you typed those random words
It instantly meant something to me

I told you when I wanted to die.
I told you that would be the last.
Yet you peered through me,
Saved me from something I thought I wanted.

It ought to be awkward;
A way I can't fathom,
Yet you talk like nothing's changed;
Comfort I needed.

We talked boring days and sleepless nights,
We talked shows and music,
We talked about lives,
We talked about us.

"Hey"
"Eyyyyy"
"Thanks for keeping up with my ****"
"It's cool I talk about random **** too"

"Hey"
"What's up?"
"I hope I'm not botheting you"
"Hey, it's okay"

"Hello"
..."hey"
"gotta go"
"wait, I—"
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
*Never mind
I'm too scared to say it in person

Let alone in chat

I know it cannot happen
 Sep 2017 Wanderer
Brandon
0213.

My wife is sleeping.
My dogs are sleeping.
My cats are sleeping.

I'm awake.

Eating beef jerky.
Drinking lime La Croix.
Putting sights on a rifle.
Flipping channels on the TV.

Wanting to sleep.

But still awake.

******.
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