The biggest compliment he could get was,
“I like that.”
“That’s creative,” coming in a close second.

Alienated
Spaceship flying *******
That last word’s disingenuous.
I’ve only ****** a ******.
She’s only ****** me.
I guess we got that going for us.

He stares at a pad and paper,
Or maybe the computer equivalent.
Who trusts their own hand to be honest?
Who entrusts tomes to their own handwriting?
I mean, can you read that ****?
I guess if you were slow and methodical,
But stream-of-consciousness doesn’t allow that,
Even if the tag is a little off.

I’ve got money to keep living,
Even if most of it is credit.
What’s my side hustle?
Using my debit.

Let it alone, is what I called the last ****
God, if I could turn these to hits.
Some bangers, some ear-worms.

I just want someone to read this,
And be like, “****, I feel heard.”