I’m not felling poetic
- just lonely.
So I’m writing to get rid of some **** feelings.
There are other ways, you know,
to "relive the pressure"
the thumping
the vacuum

but people don’t like those friends I've made;
the friends who sit on  my wrist
whispering sweet acknowledgements...

You see,
I know that what pokes at my consciousness is real
- because they are.

*Do you understand?