what about the future?
what about the past?
well, what about the present?
right now there’s so much going on,
like how i can feel the vibration of the mower
in the distance,
the little scratchy nubs all over my body.
i’m trying to see from behind the scratches on my glasses
but my eyes are so drawn to the 9000 shades of color that
are so pervasive and sensitive.
and your talking is hummed and hushed,
like your morals,
because you fail to practice what you preach,
and what i’m figuring out in the present is that
i’m doing the same exact thing to myself maybe slower,
now, it seems, but
somehow even quicker.
and the clutches of that Mazda clutch we crashed
when we were fourteen are crouching to my level,
trying to say hello but all i hear are bubbles
in the pond where your little sister tried to drown herself.
the spiraling candy slide has me nauseous and ready
to spew chunks all over mom’s new ornaments,
and the plane changes again, the doctor’s office
and white gloves reaching inside my mouth to shut off
my anxiety, my perplexity,
to show me the worm inside that’s making this happen.
but all he pulled out was my brain, entirely whole,
and i snatched it from his hands
and smothered my hunger
with such a satisfying snack,
fingers included!
what the **** did i just do? Was it that Demon called Panic that, personified as moi,
took me on that train
without my permission?
i really will never know what it is that i have
that is so special enough to be able to see
all 9000 colors in the spectrum.
they’re so vivd, it scares me, honestly,
and in the dark i feel fine, because there’s nothing
to see, but,
in the light, for real this time,
i wish somebody would take out
my eyeballs,
and walk me like a
dog for the rest of my life.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
what about the future?
what about the past?
well, what about the present?
right now there’s so much going on,
like how i can feel the vibration of the mower
in the distance,
the little scratchy nubs all over my body.
i’m trying to see from behind the scratches on my glasses
but my eyes are so drawn to the 9000 shades of color that
are so pervasive and sensitive.
and your talking is hummed and hushed,
like your morals,
because you fail to practice what you preach,
and what i’m figuring out in the present is that
i’m doing the same exact thing to myself maybe slower,
now, it seems, but
somehow even quicker.
and the clutches of that Mazda clutch we crashed
when we were fourteen are crouching to my level,
trying to say hello but all i hear are bubbles
in the pond where your little sister tried to drown herself.
the spiraling candy slide has me nauseous and ready
to spew chunks all over mom’s new ornaments,
and the plane changes again, the doctor’s office
and white gloves reaching inside my mouth to shut off
my anxiety, my perplexity,
to show me the worm inside that’s making this happen.
but all he pulled out was my brain, entirely whole,
and i snatched it from his hands
and smothered my hunger
with such a satisfying snack,
fingers included!
what the **** did i just do? Was it that Demon called Panic that, personified as moi,
took me on that train
without my permission?
i really will never know what it is that i have
that is so special enough to be able to see
all 9000 colors in the spectrum.
they’re so vivd, it scares me, honestly,
and in the dark i feel fine, because there’s nothing
to see, but,
in the light, for real this time,
i wish somebody would take out
my eyeballs,
and walk me like a
dog for the rest of my life.
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