My tongue is prisoner to my teeth
Lips pursed tight enough to hold
Back words I do not mean
Blooming from hurt unaddressed

Yes, you are right
I mean this not facetiously
But could I be right too?
Is there a middle ground to breach?

Your years hold wisdom I am yet to seek
I cannot share the fruit from your labour
Though your plate overflows
And you offer from an open palm

My frustration is my own
Thank you for your interest
Though it comes delivered wrapped
In paper that cuts my fingers

How do I know you?
Where have we met?
Those eyes, that gesture
Paths crossed, this I bet
You avoid my glance, I linger
Please do not think I stare
This familiarity
Becomes too much to bear

I endeavour to move closer
Your limbs twitch away
I do not mean to startle
But may I ask your name?
You do not want to know me
I wonder why this is
My advances trigger
Good will goes amiss

The moment arises
I steal your time alone
I ask “why do you shrug me”
You say “you are the home,
I ran from fervently
No stake in to return”
A ghost of you would converse
The present you has learned

i feel little bits
of the universe
crumble around me
feel like i am stuck
in rewind
watching the same movie
over and over, every
terrible thing
while i cook dinner
clean the kitchen
take out the garbage
listen to the headlines
one punch, another
feeling like a lace tablecloth
laid across a landmine
and i'm realizing
there are so many ways
to be undone
to be brought to your knees
to do your best
to be your best
and to lose it all
anyway

it usually leaps like a swordfish out of the ocean
and I’m able to harpoon it,
but as of lately,
I’m stuck with pond ****
and the tuna on my bad breath.

it’s nowhere to be found;
not in the parks,
the libraries,
the liquor stores
nor the circuit clerk’s office,

I tried fishing it out of the swaps of
spitfire and melancholy
but found nothing

I tried to ****** it with an excessive
amount of trouble and *******
but found nothing

I tried scooping the guts out of myself
like a hollowed out pumpkin and
splattered it with a wet slap
against an old newspaper
but found nothing

there’s nothing here;
no spark,
no imagination,
no ingenuity

what I’m I suppose to do?

as I sit here petting the black
velvet fur of my dog,
my toes won’t stop curling,
my nails are bitten down to the nub
and the stink of aging soars past
like eagles on fire

I have nothing to write about:
no unpopular opinion
no peculiar viewpoint
no bludgeoning over
the banality of
extinction

the only logical thing to do is
head out to see some local
band at a Chicago bar and see
where the alcohol takes me

I need the ammunition
I need the fuel
I need to make
something happen

the hard days of labor have diminished me
through attrition and lack of euphemism
but for right now, no matter how
saturated I am of feeling and thought…

whether I’m
drunk on sleep,
salacious on vulgarity,
grieving with quills,
vacant of *****,
dreaming of gout,
reading Géza Csáth,
listening to Sass Dragons,
burrowing under empty houses
or fixing the plumbing for the woman down the hall.

I still
can’t
coax
the word
out.

Sunrise, the birds chirp outside and the realization that my heart is still beating, enlightens me.

Last night, surrounded by the darkness of my shadow, I thought the pain, tears, and darkness would eat me whole. Instead of fighting, I waited for them to devour me.

But the white roses in my dreams, suddenly became red, forcing me to open my eyes. Sunrise, what a beautiful view. I've been offered a second chance, another day to cherish my existence in search for the meaning of life. What a beautiful day.

The moon, a star, one perspective.

Both illuminate, only if I search for light.

If I was the moon, my presence would burden this world, when I'm at my darkest. But nonetheless, I enlighten the same embodiment. It's just a matter of who, when, and how I'm viewed.

As a star, I can only be gazed upon when I'm surrounded by darkness. I'm different from the moon, much unlike a fragment of a soul.

In the end, I'm always watching, yet there's nothing I can do. The moon, star, death, and life. Unless I'm searched for, my existence alone is insignificant. Unless I'm accompanied by another, all I can do is wait.