I close my eyes because
I want to sleep through the darkest nights
Of December,
Sink into the depths of my consciousness
Who doesn’t remember
The events of earlier today.

They’re trying to **** me.

Polluted my mind,
Body
And soul.
Left me to rot, freezing
In the bitter cold.

Poisoned me with pure
Lies and deception.
Almost made me believe there is
No solution.
Almost made me believe I
Have no power in this situation.
So yes,
I should cancel my endeavours?
And wait until the damages are reversed?
So yes,
I should stay inside and
Keep my head down
Staring into the
Darkest glowing light
And get ****** into an abyss and miss
On what it truly means to be free?

You almost made me believe it.

I close my eyes in hope of a reset.
I worry if my future will be plagued
By regret.

The soul of my civilisation is infested
With worms and centipedes from the root.
My generation have been bent, burned
And broken into submission.
My elderly in ambivalence die neglected
In isolation,
My needy bite their lip in frustration
Because yet again they have to get
Used to a new brand of corruption.

And we stay silent and lower our heads
And keep our tails between our legs
And say “yes do whatever you please”
And hope that finally they have
Our best interest?

Is this madness?

This is a form of sick, twisted art,
But when did this level of manipulation
Even start?

And there comes a point where
I have to ask myself:
In all this mess,
What is my part?

Convolution's coming to the fore', with him
putting rumpettes "...in his Cabinet, Admin.".

But, of cour', when we think the as backwards
crew's in our rearview, their rule reigns.

The world knows they're every moment traitors
for e'er more, and ne'er were nothin' more.

Colluding to collaborating with their destruction
of nation, cannibalizing the pieces,

is treason too, it's not "stopping partisanship",
not "bringing a country together", not "healing",

only hurting, 'I undo the wraps from my
wounded heart', "...we(e),...", are keeping it's

broken pieces from falling apart with, 'covid's
gotta be stopped, gotta save quarter million lives',

'Ossoff and Warnock need us to help GOTV,
donate, to win GA's Senate seats for US',

but, it'll never be the same.  Thought crime
replicating la machine, the show that must, goes on?

Every time I answer I give away a little more of myself
The list of things I need to be grows every day
Another gap to plug with lines.

It’s hard to take sometimes.

I have begun to suspect that the old adage
“It's not you, it's me,” is not really about broken love but about ******* job applications.
You breathe a say of relief, I can hear it, “thank god not another lonely-hearts column”
Only a poem, insipid and sighing.

But I’m fresh onto the stage treading the boards for the very first time.
Swollen by years of septic success
Swimming in a pool on the Strand I was a happy middleweight
In this ocean, I am a particle of micro-plastic, unwanted but bobbing along nonetheless.

Another email, better than no email at all, regretting, informing and wishing me the best.
I draw myself together pulling at the loose strings at my seams, greeting, informing and thanking them for consideration, again.
This time though, the holes seem stretched, the string frayed
I’m a little worried that it will give, tired of straining it will collapse under the weight of my doused desire.

But there’s not much to be done.
So, I fill myself up with some watered-down ire, three coffees, a nibble of cake and a croc of horseshit with which to sell my fire.

It has only been a week since I've been out of school.




The anxiety of being alone is getting to me.

Hello world
(coughs)
Tell me something
(clears throat)
Afraid of a little cold?
Tell 'em I'm not affected
Squeeze the checker harder
37 and going down temp.
No Sir, no admission now
Yet the whole squad passes through
Let my normal fever in
I assure no one will be sick tomorrow

(sneezes)
Emergency evacuation!
Residents, clear the floor
Nurses coming through
Catch a small fever with cold
We won't let your sick *** in here

Let go, it's obvious
Death is not painless, Sir

A snapshot

Insignifigant in the moment but oh so important now

The silence of the room the burst of joy       the imediate downfall

Spiraling
Alone

Dark 6 days a week but that one day that one day that makes it all worth it the one day you sit in a field miles apart, faces covered and arms outstreched but never touching

Then you go back to little black boxes like the seats in a theater, talking infront of a class has never seemed scarier

Oh to go back
To That insignifigant day