One day has just passed into another
and I am sat in my bed
reading poem after Bukowski poem
trying to understand my life
but I am stuck in my head
against a door with no key
and no warden for me
to bargain with
my eyes are locked
on what I used to think
was the truth
but my body knows that
people lie
with the utmost contempt
and I don’t know
if reading all these poems
will ever make me feel whole again
but I wait for my soul
to find my body once more
and continue to move my eyes
across my laptop screen
looking for
the meaning of life