Lysol the package

Packed and shipped by robot arms

Now close the front door

I felt so alone.
every place I went. every place I stopped to visit.
Seemed off.
I followed the noise of everything around me
in the hope of finding something familiar.
I rounded corners, crossed mazes of streets.
I didn't feel like I belonged to any of these places.
mostly filled with strange looks. anxious behavior.
still, I walked.
big city life is too busy.
always somewhere to be. always something to do.
it's easy to lose track of time.
keeping up with the next thing to do, the next place to be.
I felt so alone.
my walk becoming more unease. my shoulders more tense.
nothing really felt warm.
everyone felt cold, lost in the hustle of busy feet.
Shoulders almost bumping into each other,
Cars screeching their horn almost running into the other.
the sanctuary of what I really needed seemed far away.
still, I walked.
meeting the avenue of your eyes. you.
you seemed different.
far different than any place I’ve been.
I felt like I’ve been here before, or at least
Would remember if I’ve dreamed about it.
I didn't need to look at a menu to know what I wanted.
there wasn't a question of where I’d sit, or if there'd be
a seat by the window.
No remembering if I needed to stop at an ATM or if I had the right
Amount of money. I felt at ease.
I immediately knew what I wanted and where I wanted to be.
if I did continue to walk, it would be into tomorrow.
so that I could come back here.
a patron whose face would take no time to remember.
when the weeks turn into years.
I’ll remember to tell you; this is how I got home

Channel 2

Nightly News

Who even knows anymore?


The clink of dishes


Disarray


Discussions a-bout dynamite


Likely to tear my hair out


It's fair to say I'd scare


my younger self


Wouldn't recognize,


or even know how to reply


to the sight of things


Paranoia creepin' in


Might have to do with,


all that research I been readin'


Either tricks are being played


Or something is amiss
in the way you treat me...

Ever sit for hours, staring at the waves?
Until the sun sets, and the moon shines on the water.
But the moon doesn't shine. It just blocks out the sun.
No phone vibrations, no messages,
And you're too tired to reach out.
Realization hits like a wall of water,
Tumbling in a powerful grip
A cold shock seizes your muscles.
No one notices a ghost on the docks,
a problem that's drifted beyond the horizon
Maybe one day, the waves will calm,
But for now, you're pulled under,
Disoriented,
With saltwater stinging your eyes.
Fillings your lungs.
Into the depths of solitude.
I don't know if you'll survive,
But the waves are so beautiful.

Their freedom granted by bifurcation
Roots severed from the family tree
They mourned the living, in brief
Discarded the wither and blight

Shed no tears to the fallen branches
The stench of phantosmia remains
Spring can't mask the memories
The wretched guilt shows no bark

The sap leaks through each season
The moss where blossom should be
Old wounds cast in the amber
Preserved for the life of the tree

Half dressed in a dawn chorus
Juxtaposed by muted decay
A lowly woodpecker knocks
Broken by a solitary shrill.

By Darren Wall ©

Everything is that deep for me
I have oceans inside
swells in my chest
the tides have been beating
I can't keep waves in my hand
but I have handfuls of what I can keep

Why does everything feel like it's going to pull me under?

I sometimes wonder what it's like to have real friends
and I realize the reason I don't think I have them
is because I'm not one
I'm selfish
and I don't want to know what you're going through
because I'm going through enough
and if I care I care too much
so I'm absent
and I'm convinced that one day
I will be able to fill my cup
so I can healthily pour over
but until then I am not a friend.