they got it all
wrong
nostalgia
is the thief of joy
i experience peace in small
doses
i have some redness
i need to neutralize
some things i have
to get off my chest
there are streaks in
the polish on my
nails
streaks in the windows
that i’m looking out of
pre-apocalyptic thoughts
from the edge
i would’ve kissed you
on the mouth
had i known it
was the last time
i would see you