why do things have to be
distorted
clarity is matching fragments
of broken glass
a rarity

the scent of a rose
the light of a sun
the glowing from a moon
the dust from a star
the tablecloth on your table
the tree's roots cutting into the earth
a world behind a window
the rain sounding from comfort
sea salt spraying coarse sand
an aesthetic
what a bore

Couldn't wait to see you
Then when I did
I wondered why

you know what’s worse than killing yourself


failing at it