So much time spent pondering Prufrock’s
famous words and condition,
Meals overlooked without want or need
For sustenance more than finding shreds of that same poetic recluse
Within yourself.
Tracing constellations with squinted eyes and pointed finger,
And following footsteps in photographs

Because
This is no place for you and I anymore,
Because
We stand out in the cold alone,
Because
We watch from outside,
From inside where our minds wander of their own accord.

Well, we are still innocent
Playing tic tac toe because
Two Xs and an O and there’s no way you can win.
And duck,
Duck,
Duck,
Goose and everything is gone
If that’s the best you can do, because

Prufrock did not dare disturb the universe
And I dare not disturb myself
With minutes rolled, hours rolled,
Into stories told with face unchanging, because

I have far too much passion wrapped within my fists
To mark futile Xs and futile Os
In the precious blue ink that scribbles out my life story
Too fast, not fast enough, wet ink smudged across the page,
Across my face because
Ideas are blurred by expectations,
Nightmares they say
Are just creations, but
If we are, then why am I still breathing?
Someone please wake up and un-invent me…