Takes a hit of that Which
Goes a round
Comes a round
squared inside the ring:

:giggling fist: :connect the dots
Lands one on the nimble joke
to Which a Universe
is the punch-line.

Habits of delusion are not in my repertoire,
or are they?
That’s exactly what a deluded person
would think.
Sometimes my wheels spin against nothing,
open air,
and produce endless possibilities,
is that really only sometimes?
Maybe it’s all the time.
Maybe it’s so much so fast so often
that my thoughts are unreliable,
impossible to untangle,
distinguish from the next,
they just run together
anyway.
Sleep? Who needs it,
I’m on overdrive,
working, thinking,
going
gone

I went through my pictures today
And I realized I used to be happy.
Something I haven’t been in a while.

The person I see in those photos
Is not the same person looking back through the mirror;
There’s a faint resemblance, nothing more.

I used to smile and laugh, always so joyful;
I still do, but it’s no longer genuine
No longer healthy.

People used to say my smile made their day
And all I could think was
It’s just a smile, how can it make such a difference?

I never understood what they meant
When they said the smile should be seen in the eye;
That there should be a glitter, a sparkle.

Now when I laugh, when I smile,
It’s polite, lacking reassurance
Missing the light heartened warmth

I went through my pictures today
And I realized I used to be happy.
I finally know what that glitter, that sparkle is.
.
.
.
It’s what’s missing from the mirror.

A song played that you showed me when we were still lovers
To show me that you're here for me
Why?
Why this song?
Out of all the songs that could have played..

Too many memories flood into my head
I do miss us
But I will be okay, I always am.
I wish you still felt the same way as you did back then

I look for compatriots
in this callous and cruel
world.

I seek allies who will help
me overcome
the horrors that were done
to everyone.

I long for
the warm storm
to wash away
the wicked muck
of too much
hateful stuff,
deeply paining
dark rhetoric
that wealthy men
generate,
to create
fear and hate.

I wait
subdued
by the desire
to inspire
in contrast
with a need
to find peace
from a
spiteful past,

but even among peers
I am alone.