I’m sorry
It’s inevitable,
It disappoints
And discourages,
It runs its course
Upon watered
Eyes and calluses
On the palms
Of your hands,
Despite all
Of that,
There’s dishes
To be made,
And cat litter
To be cleaned,
And people
To meet,
And storms
To prepare for,
And there will
Be someone to
Love,
Don’t let it
Get to you,
Despite.

Can’t sleep
but will eat
the fondest memories of you
when the pillows peak through

I'm at war with myself.
My confidence caught in between
a battlefield of destructive choices,
defeating words and deafening voices,
that strike me down constantly.
I'm over taken by armed anxieties,
their vocalities violently shattering
any chance I've had at victory.
My white flag falling at my feet,
as I hear them scream,
"You'll never be good enough!"

The outside cats
Trust me now,
Every time I
Come out they
Meow and talk
To me, ask me
For food,
Maybe the
Others that
Also care for
Them haven’t been
Feeding them lately,
I run inside fast,
So the cigarette
In my mouth
Doesn’t stink up
The place, I open
A pack of wet food,
I put it down in
The little corner that
I always do,
And I crawl my way
Back to my seat and
Watch them enjoy their
Feast.

As I stand
in the rain,
droplets
of water
play and
roll down
my fingers
and into
the ground,
I feel like
A stray cat,
A runt
Abandoned
By his mother,
Or like a fish
In less water,
I flop on the
Concrete
And catch
My breath
In between
Droplets.

i never used to smoke
but since you left,
it’s the only time i can seem to breathe