Ceaseless scratching
The sound of fingernails on skin
Constant
Unending
Rapid
More
I need it more.
Oh god.
Oh ****.
I can feel the Need.
It's all over.
The sensation.
Not even here. Just a mirage.
Just a dream.
Just a fever.
What I want.
NO
What I need.
When will it come?
How long have I waited?
Hours?
Days?
Months???
Or only minutes?
Time
Oh please go faster
A kettle
Boil?
That's it!
If I don't think
Then it will speed up.
How to achieve that though?
Oh,
I did it.

I'd rather see the world
Through a broken glass
Fragmented
Like I'm an insect
I'd rather see you
Looking through my bangs
You're blurry now
Like I'm dying
I'd rather see myself
Well
I'd rather not see myself
At all

Maybe someday
I just won't
Think about this
Anymore
Maybe I won't
Think at all
But for now
I'm trapped
As the wisp
It sings
It plucks
At my strings
I'm just
An instrument
Of my own
Torture
And I can't
Bear it
Anymore

I've been driving down the same streets
Been tapping my foot to the same beat
I don't know, friend, maybe it's just me but,
Every path that I lead,
Every place I go and then leave,
It all feels the same, the players don't change.
Doesn't it seem strange?
They've been mapping out my path since first grade.
They had a plan for me before I even played.
No?

I've been driving down the streets I paved,
Take a look at my world, friend,
Everything you see, I made.
I don't not believe in some force of fate
But nothing ever changed for people
Stuck living in a wait.
While the players never seem to change,
Look deep inside my eyes, I've changed.
While they give reasons in comfort to stay,
I'm ready for a new game to play.

If you neglect all the perspective,
You neglect your potential.
Staring down at my tip-less pencil
"You're broken and useless"
Sharpen your image and mind
And let's do this.
Look into the looking glass, take a breath,
Looking back at a beautiful mess.

Drawing flowers
Foxglove and
Red stained hearts
Bleeding out
On the pavement
Sending kisses
Over the phone
Texting like
Wildflowers
Popping up
In the darkness
Of my mind

The rhyme was easy
The meter was simple
All we needed was the title.

Whispered words in the night
Loops traced on restaurant napkins
A soft sound against my neck.

A burst of thought during lunch break
Scrolling through lines on a screen
Or the rasp of pages between dry fingers.

The title eluded us
A distant, provocative idea whose
Promise tasted sweeter than its journey,
But whose demand pulled at our stomachs
In an endless tug-of-war.

It was one a.m., he had garlic and
***** and toothpaste breath and I
Coughed and mumbled and
Shoved him away when he
Gasped and prodded my shoulder,
Excited feet making the bed shake.

Somewhere between my "*******"
And "goodnight, sweetheart" was the
Soft caress, the tickle on the back of my neck
That wormed its way into the
Corner of my brain
A white film that slowly seeped behind
My eyelids-
"Reginald"

Reginald
Reginald?
I sat up, I turned, I stared at him until
He opened one smoky eye and watched me
Watching him.

And then I laughed.
And laughed.

And that's why we named you Reginald.