religion smashing fingers
you are
the single piece of toast
I ate for breakfast this morning.

emotional substance spread over me
and silence poured me another drink.
down we go, and I go down.

confusion constellation contemplation
trying to connect the dots between seeing you
and not wanting to see you, but not wanting to be
alone.

are you having fun yet?

you've peaked
and my interest is fleeting
pop
the helium balloon explodes
and my voice loses volume.
impact upon giving time
wasting time thinking
that this place is too quiet
for my thoughts to process
and translate them the way
I want to.
bathing and waiting
building my own gates
to make sure I'll remember how I got in
and how to get back out.