as for the infant
he ain’t
gonna hurt
himself /  

to quote
god
is that

how I sound

poison coursing through my veins,
parting ways in my brain,
separating me from my own mind,
i flock to what’s left and she waits.

i can’t remember where she slipped in,
more so when she slid out,
and how it got to the point now
where my drink is flooding me
with anticipation.

some knowing, unknown in its right,
the idea wasn’t here just a night ago,
but now it won’t leave,
it waits, just as she does.

and once this moves into motion,
the ground will tremble.
with such force, such intensity,
and i will show her the way,
what i mean, how i pursue it myself,
as she does, as we had,
and now cannot.

i’ll show her the dead tissue,
hanging from my shoulders,
how i have to lug it around
and one day, will unload.

54% of people in Iceland believe in elves.
When I was in Iceland, my phone broke.
Nobody knows how.
I guess you could say that number is now closer to 55%.

I haven't had a phone now for about a month now.
It's not as though I used it much to begin with,
but it has posed as an inconvenience,
such as not knowing the time.

I had to go out and buy a watch.
Watches always remind me of you.
You would tell me,
"Men judge other men by their watches and shoes."
I always thought this was dumb.
Then I started taking notice of people's watches and shoes.

I always liked your watches best.
My favorite one showed all of the cogs and gears.
It was much more intricate than the one I bought.
Then again, you've always had an eye for details,
Whereas I tend to trip up over the small things.

Now, whenever I check the time,
I think of you.

I may discontinue wearing this watch.
After all, time has always slipped through my fingers,
Among other things.
There's no use fighting the inevitable.  

Instead, I'll simply learn to map the sky.
Invest in a sundial.
Read the moon.
Track the North star.

Watches are only good for those waiting for something to happen.

She chokes on her apple turnover
Leaving a cloud of powdered sugar
That would stop Marlon Brando in his tracks.
Instead of cleaning up the dust,
She starts to swirl her fingers around in it
Until various shapes start to emerge.

She says it doesn't feel like there are clouds in the sky anymore
That maybe it's because she hasn't been keeping her chin up enough,
Admitting that optimism never quite suited her.
So instead, she says she'll make her own patterns
And test out realism for a while
Since she figures that realism is the only mindset that
Allows her something tangible to hold onto
When she's drowning in a false sense of security.