Giggle, giggle—swallow beans,
Wash the dishes, clean the bins.
Mutton, fish, curry, and beef,
Taunts, sarcasm, dreams but grief.

Sush! The sound above decibels,
Buzz and roar—what about tinnitus?
Free, independent, no fear of inclusion,
No one to assess—but what about seclusion?

Sadly rich, with burger and fries,
Oh, nobody to deal with—sighs!
And there comes Peppa Pig and Panther,
All by myself to deal with tamper.

End of the day holds no meaning,
Reality, delusion, facts, and healing

These 4 walls, the only friends
The hours tick away, but swelling
Winter, hurry — freeze my blood.
Sweating through these supine steps,
           I'll stumble on.

A/C buzz, electric hum.
The room lit yellow, bathing jaundice.
          Fante & Hamsun.
     Folding pages, scratching dog ears.
          furrow brows.
     "**** this color paint."

     "**** the Summer."
         I say it, always.

4 new walls, my only friends.
The seconds boil away, but slowly.
Solitude, please freeze my blood.
Snowfall in my reptile dreams,
               all serpentine

Heater hum, alone again
Wish they wanted my chanting voice, now.
Footfalls hustle. Frozen, crunching.
Clothed in funerary coat
          The wine explodes.

Shake this thrumming midnight buzz,
and rooms lit dimly, sweating blizzards.
          Trudge & debate Blake —
     —use my degree for ******* something.
                    Shoulders hunch.
           "Just me. In falling snow."

"Tyger Tyger, burning bright—"
    
                      Here I stand, a dwindling flicker—

"In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fires of thine eyes?—"

        —I can barely see tonight. And thicker lines
                            have failed to lead me home.

Alone.
And kindred with the cold.

I was born in a fishbowl
With crystal-clear glass
No one ever told me—
Told me I was watching
Watching from afar

Oh, I was knocking on the glass
But you didn’t hear—
No, you never do
Will I ever stop knocking?

And they say, “It’s just for now,
Just a little longer.”
But I was born in a fishbowl
And I haven’t stopped knocking

The glass is a sphere
It warps my perception
That’s how it was made—
So I see what you want

Oh, I live in a bowl
And I think you put me there
You said it was for a while
But I’m getting too big

Inside is pretty
But outside is new
Outside has you
The water is cold—
I’m sure the air is warm

I think I’m free soon
Because I saw you
I saw you walk in
And you had another fish

It’s my turn now.
I’m leaving soon—
I think I’m leaving soon
Nothing warping my perception.


My turn to feed the fish,
That new one you brought in.
I’ll tell her the water’s clean
Then make the tank smaller.

I was always there
You said you cared
I sent the message
16 hours no reply,
You said you cared
Yet I am suspended midair
All you shed was a single tear
The next day I was forgotten

I lay underground
26 hours no reply.

Why do I feel so cold and empty when everyone around me is warm?
Am I made of ice?
Or rather, is it the fact that they choose to blanket themselves in quilts by the fire, while I shiver outside in the cold?
Am I a fool; ignorant and selfish?
I hope not.
Maybe I'm just...  l  o  n  e  l  y  ?

The café is crowded today.
The sun bleeds through the windows,
Too golden, too alive.
Laughter spills from warm mouths,
Voices tangled in gossip and joy—
Sips of “hot tea” passed like communion.

They are full.
Full of stories, of fire, of something.
And I—
I watch from the shadows,
Wearing a smile that doesn’t belong to me.

Why do I feel nothing?

Why does the world move
As if I’m not even here?

Two shots of Americano sit before me,
Untouched.
Their black depths reflect my own—
Still, bitter,
And staring back.

I wonder if they know
That I am not whole.
That half of me is elsewhere,
Wandering some unseen purgatory.

My body is here,
But my soul?
It left long ago.
Perhaps in silence.
Perhaps screaming.
I can't remember anymore.

Friends used to say,
“You look like a corpse with breath.”
And I laughed—
The way ghosts might laugh
At the echo of a joke
They no longer understand.

I daydream often,
But dreams never stay.
They float just out of reach—
Like the memory of warmth
Or the sound of someone calling your name
After they've already gone.

I was the joker once.
Now, I am the joke.

Some days,
I wonder if I died
And no one noticed.

That I simply
Kept living
Out of habit.