untitled, i can
never find my ******* words
the void air thickens

I can't sleep
I blame it on the spiders
That wind thin intricate
Webs of thoughts
Through my head

you feed me by hand
I don't care how little
or how much
because this is the most delicious thing i've had in a long while.
you are at fault for
the overflow of trepidation collecting across my tongue that accuses me
the mess i've made of my head assuming.
I have equal fault and take the guilt as it comes
like when you benefit me with conversation
shower just enough discipline and attention
to guide me slowly but surely
steady
or when i procure my own fantasia
blissed in my own imagination
anticipation
curiosity
of what satisfies your appetite.

I am excessive
Like the incessant honk of the train blazing down highland
Like the rain when I've conveniently left my umbrella home.

I do not know how to form a balance
Organize chaos
Tidy the mess that is I

I gorge and tarry

i call kecia and she wants to know what's up
but i cannot fit my truth around a mouthful of tooth decay and nicotine.
i want to tell her that **** ain't as sweet as this swisher smoke
that some of this **** is too hard to swallow
so i thought i'd choke
"is that all?" she asks
and no it's not but what the **** else can i say

love is not blind
it is selfish
it boasts
it cannot make up its mind
or admit to its faults
this is me loving me the only way i know how

i wanna ask you
"what about that *****, Ken
you still **** with him?"

i'm so curious
yet so aware of my place-
I'm not even ranked