"endorphins" poems
The weak breeze whispers nothing
The water screams sublime
His feet shift, teeter-totter
Deep breath, stand back, it’s time
Toes untouch the overpass
Soon he’s water bound
Eyes locked shut but peek to see
The view from halfway down
A little wind, a summer sun
A river rich and regal
A flood of fond endorphins
Brings a calm that knows no equal
You’re flying now
You see things much more clear than from the ground
It’s all okay, it would be
Were you not now halfway down
Thrash to break from gravity
What now could slow the drop
All I’d give for toes to touch
The safety back at top
But this is it, the deed is done
Silence drowns the sound
Before I leaped I should’ve seen
The view from halfway down
I really should’ve thought about
The view from halfway down
I wish I could’ve known about
The view from halfway down
Feb 11, 2020
Feb 11, 2020 at 9:53 AM UTC
it's hard to
be with you
and not get *****
your ***
your stomach
everything about you
makes me feel like
I just want to lift you up and throw you on the bed
rip your clothes off
and **** u so hard
until u *** all over
and scream and moan
and breathe so heavy
I want to feel your warm breath
on my neck
I want to feel your voice vibrate
as you give me head
I want to hear you say oh yes
as I **** you on the desk
and lift you up
and feel your *** cheeks
in my hands
girl I can't stand
to watch you walk away
without having a taste
and a sampling
of that wetness
my body yearns for you
it's a machine
that wants to be strong
and make you feel so good
that you can't imagine
ever touching another man
because
I'm your rock
When I had you in my arms
took hold of you
took control of you
you're mine now
I'm going to dominate you
and she likes it
she likes when I take over
and **** her all over
in several different positions
on the counter
to the bed
she ****** me, she was on top
and i felt that *** go up and down
and clap against my *****
then I flipped her over
and got on top
and ****** her hard and slow
she wanted to *** on my ****
which was perfectly fine with me
as I was caressing her ****
I ****** her against hte wall
threw her against the dresser
rubbed her *** on it
hard and aggressively
and made her breath
heavily
I lifted her leg up and pinned her against the wall
and felt all of her walls
as I pulled out and slid back in
all the way to the tip
to the base of my ****
she said does that feel good baby
I said yeah it's the best
she sent me pictures
of her *** and ****
and her pretty face
and I couldn't help but think
about how I wanted to take
my **** and go up in it
pull out
and *** all over her ***
and make her feel it
make her moan
make her legs shake
and vibrate
I want to make her ***** feel like
it's having a 7.1 earthquake
on the richter
I fixed her
she was stressed out
feeling uneasy
anxious
and an ****** relaxed her
gave her the endorphins she needs
to go about the rest of the week
let's **** baby
let's do it all night long
til we can't go anymore
and we're left laying on the bed
holding each other
laying sideways
with no pillows
forgetting about
how we usually sleep
and our bodies locked in
to each other
we're the same one another
we're a unit
together
******* not just for pleasure
but to satisfy our needs
and emotionally
doing each other good deeds
so we can go to bed
and get good sleep
and be better people
we're a strong couple
and we always know how to make the bed rumble
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC
(gulp)
Couldn’t resist a minute more.
Relapse.
I again…
After six months sober...
Here.
In this pain I know all too well.
Ten years lost to this drug my veins ache for.
First breath in the morning and last thought at night, all consumed by it.
Every cell in me craves it.
That physical euphoria my body portraits.
Feels like someone has poured pure joy into every single muscle and fiber of my being.
It makes me feel so content
Every single bit of me is singing and buzzing with life and love.
It's like the ecstasy of ******* that first blissful, pleasurable pulsation of endorphins and serotonin.
This is what I feel when I first take LOVE.
And then...
And then, the honeymoon stage is over.
Fights erupt.
Never-ending debates.
Miscommunications.
Misperceptions.
No trust.
Accusations.
Lies.
“I’m done...”
…
Again, it feels like a part of my soul is leaving my body.
Again, sitting here numb.
A toxic love...
I’m addicted to,
And there’s no way around it.
It’s already deep intertwined with my veins.
Yet, no matter the toxic, tragic event that happened before, I sit here, and I want nothing more than to spend my life next to this soul.
To see his eyes unchanged as the skin around it wrinkles and grows old is what my heart will always desire— to stare at those eyes for the rest of eternity.
Dead air…
So here I’ll wait, until you decided to come into my life again and repeat this déjà vu.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
when i run
i imagine an airport
and you at the opposite end with open arms
and me running towards you
longing for your embrace
when i squat
i imagine a burning house
a heavy wooden column on my shoulders
and you between my legs
your life being mine to save
when i do pull-ups
i imagine a steep cliff
and your face meeting mine
drawing closer, closer, closer
at my every ascent
when i deadlift
i imagine you trapped
underneath the belly of a car
with you looking for me to lift the trunk
and allow space for your escape
when i bench press
i imagine myself (this time) trapped
underneath the belly of a car
with me pushing the car above
to be able to return to your company
when i do curls
i imagine you a mile away
a rope attached to your hips
and with each tug i repeat
you grow closer by a couple of feet
when i shoulder press
i imagine a promise of a good shoulder rub
courtesy of your hands
once i squeeze out those
last.
three.
reps.
and when my spirit is spent
and exhaustion takes over imagination,
i shall revel in the endorphins pulsating through my veins
and pay gratitude
to my iron muse,
my unseen lover.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 7:40 AM UTC
what they don't see:
your hand entwined with mine,
how alive I am by your side
what they don't hear:
your deep voice, telling me
how strong I really am
what they don't realize:
they've been dreaming
of me, alone and lonely
but I'm the opposite
I've got you,
my secret warrior,
supplying me endorphins
loving me- better than they ever can
we're the victors
of this broken land,
secret warrior and I
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
Those green eyes
that penetrate and burn
I’m instantly smitten
you think that I’d learn
nothing good ever comes
from a girl with beautiful eyes
they know how to deceive
and make me believe their lies
but the endorphins flow
my heart is racing away
maybe I’ll learn my lesson
but I won’t learn it today
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 1:24 AM UTC
The feel of the pen
on the paper
the poet grabs a verse.
the dripping of morphine
the flow of endorphins
flow of electronic lines
across the monitor
let’s hope we don’t flatline
this mere mortal
needs a portal to the stars
this mere mortal needs
defibrillation to the heart
the way the poetry forms
in the lungs and the mind
the way life needs beauty
is sometimes unkind
I am the blood transfusion
the illusion
of poems
bells chime
Electrons flow
Radioactive X-rays know
Poetry opens doors
I am the emergency poet
I will take flight
in flames
never shall I be tamed
But I will make that heart beat
and get you out of your seat
And on the road to recovery
and discovery
Because poetry heals
and steals back our songs
what could go wrong?
Dec 8, 2021
Dec 8, 2021 at 2:54 PM UTC
Head down inside the sink you tried
Sick as a dog you wish you died
Pick up yourself, no time for suicide
Rest your health, no need to do it twice
I think it's time for a new tattoo
Make it mine, The man you wish you knew
Make your statement that your love is true
No need to wait then for tomorrow to prove
Euphoria
Sweet Euphoria
Complete Euphoria
Euphoria
Sweet Euphoria
Complete Euphoria
Give me more of them endorphins
Happy chemicals keep me happy again
Fly away from zombie world and depression
Electro shock, lobotomy, dysfunction
Give me more of that legal stimuli
To enhance me to the feeling of being high
Step away from the world its all a bunch of lies
Tried to see it their way, can't say I didn't try
Euphoria
Sweet Euphoria
Complete Euphoria
Euphoria
Sweet Euphoria
Complete Euphoria
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 8:42 AM UTC
Asking silly questions
About places I no longer live
And people that
Maybe should have stayed friends
Who really burned bridge
Both of us
No innocence here
Who really threw first stone
More questions that don't matter
Naked answers drained of endorphins
Let me be the honey sweet mulled wine
Take me to dinner with your Prada
White girl no *** pearly teeth
Telling me really
'All men are pigs anyways my darling'
Making me her plump little Sunday swine
'Shall I feed at thy trough'
Earns me a red cheek'd slap
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 7:32 PM UTC
Mind is a super computer they say.
It can think of millions of stuff in a matter of day.
From the bombings in Iraq,
to the hurt in my best friends heart.
From the moment its up,
It never stops,
To stop. Blink or breathe.
It keeps running at night.
The subconscious consumes power.
Often leaving the mind tired at the break of dawn.
When it meets people,
it reads the signs at many levels.
Subject of talk,
Body language.
Positivity of the vibes,
The way the person jives.
A handshake.
A wink.
A hug.
A swiftly made jug*
It notices everything.
In all this processing.
It accumulates a lot of clutter!
And the mind with all the confusing thoughts,
becomes like hot butter!
Sparks fly like an electronic of fire!
And it needs something to distract it.
What works best is a bit of exercise.
A bit of chattering,
Or writing it all out.
Some find solace in Games or Movies.
Why do they work?
Because they engage all senses,
And make the mind groovy.
Smoking and doping do great too.
But reducing the processors of our mind to grade two!
Hallucinating and dreaming 80% of it.
The mind thinks its being more productive that most of it.
But illusions destroy us further.
Making the mind believe it’s just another wonder.
Wonder though it is.
Using only 10% of it we create,
Science, History, Mystery,
But this wonder has a lot on bate.
If it goes in the wrong direction.
Even thinking too much is an addiction!
Original thoughts are like endorphins to the mind.
Making it jump and do cartwheels inside.
Stimulating discussions are named that way,
Because engaging in one makes us jumpy all day.
It satisfies the mind that,
I have done something constrictive besides,
Whiling my days in sorrow,
and waiting for the morrow.
Mind is like a baby that need attention,
if not given that it runs in all directions.
Mind is a super computer that needs,
the dedication of a programmer.
Be that programmer and feed your mind the right numbers,
And see it become the eighth wonder!
*Jug- short for juggle.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
Sleeping someone somewhere
Dreams of drinking daises
Laying lucid loving lavender
Adapting admiration of the ages
Koala kites, kaleidoscope cries
Bubbles blowing bare beauty
Riding radiance rapidly realizing
Forsaken focus freeing form
Soaring sensation seeps synchronicity
Dripping differences deranged
Rearranged ripples randomly react
Enacting endorphins equally engaging
Induced ignition infinitely intact
Pulsating precision purpose full pact
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 4:52 AM UTC
Sun, heat and sweat
and what remains but the bone
the indecipherable whisper on our ear
the bitter aftertaste of a potent drink
you show me your tattoos, i show you mine
you show me your scars, i show you my poems
you show me your breast, i show you my
sun, heat and sweat
the ghost of a body that has not yet died
pill after pill till the stomach is pumped
till the brain swims in endorphins, nirvana, heaven
till the night screams to be heard and the moans fade
till the bone-sun rises and clobbers our throbbing skulls
no more
for once i want to sleep by 10:00 pm sharp
for once i want to know what the birds sing
what maria callas means by "vissi d'arte"
for once i yearn to be silenced
by another's dream
dissolve in the radiance of a pure syllable
vanish beyond the confines of light
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 8:55 PM UTC
My mind is out of focus
And my mouth is dry
My eyes are too heavy
'Im so very tired
And my face is blank
My heart is slow
My body is so warm
Then it turns cold
Now my body twitches
My breathing is getting deep
I can't trust my ears
Or images that I see
It seems that I'm here
But my mind is gone
Time seems so short
But feels so long
My system needs a shock
Or a wake up call
When you talk to me
Its like conversing with a wall
Caffeine don’t do a thing
Caffeine won;t do a thing
Caffeine does nothing
Caffeine do something
The sunshine hurts my eyes
My mood is so damp
I'm like a zombie
Try to get up but I can't
Brain drain
Brain drain
Causing me mental pain
Brain drain
Brain drain
My head can't sustain
Brain drain
Brain drain
Everything looks the same
Brain drain
Brain drain
I feel so lame
Brain drain
Brain drain
I can't concentrate
Brain drain
Brain drain
Worn out from this game
Wake me up
Get me up
Keep me up
Give me up
My head begs for endorphins
But I cant oblige
Now I'm feeling down
It weeps and it cries
Keep my head spinning
At every minute of every day
But now I'm running on fumes
You got nothing to say
You got my heart, hold it oh so tight
I go behind your back doing things that ain't so right
Wrap me up in all this drama I wanna leave
I need to take a break I'm almost outta steam
In school I'm barely getting by
Because I'm focused on getting laid and getting high
My mind wandered off
To where it shouldn't have been
So now it has died
And buried with my sins
I wanna go back to normal
Original thought process
Mind and body went to hell and back
All I can do is digress
I had too much fun for way to long
So now my right is left and my left is wrong
I've got all this stress and it piles up
But it's on my shoulders and I can't pass the buck
I find no enjoyment in what I once held dear
Becoming eternally empty is my deepest fear
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
he's
tripping, but not
coerced by gravity;
rather a Molotov cocktail of
endorphins lobbed straight at his
prefrontal cortex.
some find this
distasteful,
some find it
deplorable;
god help me,
I find it adorable.
(it's the only time he'll
admit he loves me)
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
When distance separates and too much time has passed
Just outside the door I stand with excitement
I feel like a magnet
so close to its opposite partner
the invisible pull stronger than steel
I open the door and all my baggage falls
then I set my things down and we embrace
I feel like the last puzzle piece
discovered under the couch
fulfilling the final perfect fit
Your brain isn't supposed to have feeling
But I do, and this feeling I love
I feel like a waterpark
made for young endorphins to play
every curvy slide in my brain for free
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 12:57 PM UTC
born underwater a ****** to the birth of creation
complacent verses bathing in lakes wasted her patience
ocean poems emotive prose the notions grow
breast strokes sowed in silly string civilized sovereignty
divinity’s reliance divided by Earth’s dire needs
fires breathe regardless of the rain she breeds
seeds beneath the sand hold no reason to lie in wake
so we speak in foreign tongues with dominance a mistake
to take her language for another world
visions died with imminence and grandiosity
a coliseum’s misconstruction catalyzed combustion’s coldest counterculture
living within the wind sinning stings it’s singularity
glaring stares impaired all sages of their clarity
careful conscious turned rotten swimming in the toxins
glossy water robs apostles of oxygen
filtered riddles fiddled this conviction’s symmetry
& now the god’s live in ignorance and misery
crimson skies abysmal cries they’re looking at the ground
astounded to the loud doubts that overpower clouds
powdered optometry devoured flowers of their solitude
another rotten petal for every sentiment left misunderstood
confused prisoners gifted with the write to think
proles sentenced to wonder why the caged bird sings
a paradox of broken thoughts to question it’s intentions
matter undermined the undefined enlightenment
spirals in the light comprise a present tense
evanescent destination sensei keep I humble
so many stripes up in my wavelengths
widowed endorphins scrape the pain away
balanced chemically an efficacy of electricity
many marvel but the master’s prophecy is destiny
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
curtains closed, hood up,
doors barricaded,
windows ******* shut
another pipe,
another hit,
that was a mistake,
**** it
lie down, close eyes,
heart racing,
telling me lies,
need a mask, another guise
panic
panic
what was that noise?
deluded thoughts persisting,
mind twisting,
panic ever increasing,
endorphins releasing
lie down, get back up,
will this panic ever stop?
another pipe,
another hit,
that was a mistake,
**** it
(c) mandy rigby 03/13/2014
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
A guy said, "Wow! My stress level
Has really dropped. I am elated!
I owe it to my meditation."
"Yes, and maybe endorphins," I stated.
"What?" he asked. "What do you mean?
What do orphans have to do with it?
I'm TRYING to share what happened to
My mind, and here you go and ***** with it."
"No," I chuckled. "You don't understand.
You see, 'and orphans' is not what I said.
It has nothing to do with orphans.
I was saying 'endorphins' instead."
"There you go again," he continued,
"Saying it over and over again:
'And orphans, and orphans.' You sound like
A nitwit with a capital 'N'!"
"I, a nitwit?" I said, astonished.
"You are the one who keeps repeating
'And orphans.' Now I see that trying
To reason with you is self-defeating."
"Self-defeating? B...b…but," he stammered,
"I was merely attempting to share
The benefits of my meditation.
Orphans are neither here nor there."
"Listen: I WASN'T saying 'ORPHANS'!"
I yelled. "And frankly, I have to confess
Meditation in your case is
Of questionable effectiveness."
"Although your criticism," he said,
"Should bother me, I will not let it."
He walked away, and as he did,
He mumbled, "And orphans? I STILL don't get it."
-by Bob B (7-27-21)
Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 11:04 AM UTC
When I think about the executioner
I think about at the moment after impact
How every one goes limp into total relaxation
When I think about the executioner
I think about our children in mortal terror
And I weep.
When I think about the executioner
I wonder what he does after
Is there exhilaration?
Andrenial and endorphins,
Whiskey speed and morphine
Prayers all night,
Telling their god about all they gave,
Maybe feeling nothing like killing a fly
Or are there endless movies of regret?
When I think about the executioner
I think about the man in the fiery cage
Head bowed
The man looking to his left
Before the shot goes off
When I think about the executioner
I think of the last breath
Before death
When I think about the executioner
I wonder about being there
And how I will react.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC
You are the
liquid sugar
I rub into
my skin
soaked
through to my
pores so
deep within
on a cellular
level as I
gulp it down
swish in saliva
in liquid love
sounds
washed through
my system
in textured
spin
you balance
out the thickness
of my insulin
you
pique
hot
energies
into blush-fused
crush
swirling
endorphins
and hormones
in maelstrom rush
my cheeks
on fire,
ripe fruits
drip
juice
I must
breathe
in staccato
to control
this
sluice
But when I
get peak-high
and then
slope
so
low
you harmonize
the taut,
slick pull
of my
undertow flow
It's just a matter
of a few
words, syll-a-
bles spoken
velvet-voiced
cool
smooths
the rough
of my
broken
So please
inject it,
fresh
into the river
of my blood
Bring it over,
hot sugar,
before I
surge
into
flood
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
For you to notice me
If you only knew
I mainly want to talk, but my human side lets off.
Images of my rough hands around your soft waist to let our souls mix and seep when our eyes meet.
To sweet delight of soft serve with every curve I follow
I only want to talk
Exchange another note of human emotions and social interactions
See we lack the capacity to physically understand
And leading you off isn't in my objective
I just get stiff with kisses on your neck
I can almost feel your hands on my back
Your legs tighten around my thighs
Endorphins rush when your back curves and your chest touches mine
Temperatures rise, I can see all the signs
I still want to talk
Your interests interest me
Lets take a walk
If we stand still I'll examine your body
My heart will go lively
With electronic sparks
I only want to talk
But when you laugh I get this shiver
A cold quivering
That you wouldn't notice
In an instance we are on the grass with a breeze blowing your hair
And I'm grabbing your ***
I don't want to move too fast
You then reach for me
A heavenly breath runs across my neck
I almost turn wild
A stone to the ocean
Oh how opposites attract
I just want to talk
However clever I might be how has your day been
Lets get deeper mentally
I'll exchange ****** innuendos lets see if you notice
I'm just a man in not trying to be a pervert
Then you smile and it takes awhile to adjust
My imagination turns rough
I envision us at a picnic a diamond in the rough
Shoes off and your happy
So I am too
You make to first move
Now I am excited and don't know what to do
You look at me
The eye contact from green to brown
We stare then our lips touch
Our eyes close to love the moment
As these can't be seen
Emotions run rampant
And I suckle on your teet
But I just want to talk
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 4:31 AM UTC
We’re all just dancing.
That’s life, an infinite and cosmic dance.
The sound waves that the world produces wanders from polka
to jazz
all the way over the Appalachian mountains
to finger picking bluegrass.
Yes, life is simply a dance
But dancing is not simple.
What is the goal?
To feel good!
But for who to feel good?
Is it enough that my endorphins rise
To the rhythm of experience?
No.
To dance alone is beautiful,
But not enough.
So the point of the dance:
To feel good!
I
and
you
and
her
and
them
and
all.
But how?
Cause that is important.
Well, first you have to hear the music
Then you have to listen to the music
Then you have to feel the music
Then you can live the music
We’re all in this beautiful dancehall
I believe it’s called, The Universe
And the music is soft
So we have to listen close
And we have to get close
Cause we wanna get each other high
But we have to watch out for each other’s toes
Happiness for the individual is only possible
When everyone is dancing to the same tempo
The song can be different
But the tempo must be the same
Everyone moves in syncopation
Toes are in tact and souls are in communion
And there it is
The cosmic dance
To get my high
I get you high
And to get us high
We get the neighbors high
And it can be a beautiful cycle
Just, when your neighbor steps on your toes
Pretend you don’t notice
Life is a dance
Dancing is fun.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
Everything feels like nothing, and nothing starts to feel like everything.
Everyday. Everyday as I wake up,
Nothing ever beats the feeling of inadequacy.
Inadequacy to do good
Inadequacy as a daughter
Inadequacy as a student
Inadequacy as a person
Inadequacy in feeling good within my own body
Inadequacy from feeling good about myself.
Everyday feels like an endless loop, you best believe my misery hunts me.
But what is inadequacy?
Is it scarcity? Deficiency? Insufficiency? A lack thereof?
Is it this mindless blob, formless and dark or a mangled form of flesh, eating away at you and your insecurities?
Like a virus, it pins you, goes deep inside you and there is never enough antibiotic for you...
This inadequacy keeps me up at ungodly hours where the sun howls and moon chirps, the clouds look at us, feigning interest, idly looking but never interacting.
This inadequacy lulls me in irregular fever dreams where comfort lies in solitude and loneliness,
where the people that surround you, cover their ears, bites their cheek, looks forwards, smiles faintly, but never tries to understanding.
My heart wails for the smallest of things. Nothing, nothing becomes everything.
My successes make me feel less, still. Everything, everything becomes nothing.
I am this inadequate thing, floating around, never seeming to be enough.
Inadequate. Because i could not protect myself from those who touch my skin like its free real estate, those clammy hands holding me in a state
A state of frenzy that never seems to end
Inadequate. That no matter what I do, my past will forever haunt me and define the being I am now that no matter how much I change, and try and try and try to do good, it will never be
enough.
And those same voices, those same people, they say they scream they tell me,
“You should have told me.”
“You should have fought back.”
“You are a waste of time.”
“You are dumb.”
“You are nothing.”
“You waste your talents for something as this,”
And those same people, let go of words
That back then would have meant nothing
But now it seems to be everything
It becomes my identity
It becomes my oxygen
It becomes the blood that circulates in my body
It becomes the endorphins in my brain
Nothing becomes everything. And everything that I’ve tried to change, worked hard to achieve, tried to mend, was sorry for, starts to become nothing.
But I am tired of feeling like nothing. That everything I do is always inadequate. That it is some form of scarcity, deficiency, insufficiency, a lack thereof.
These mindless blobs, or mangled forms of flesh,
Like a virus, it pins me, goes deep inside me and there is never enough antibiotic for me...
Because instead of listening, to understand, to empathize, they listen so they can jeopardize...
Whatever love is left that I could give to myself,
Without a shred of doubt,
In a warm, bright embrace for myself, in a corner slouched.
So, I ask these voices, who are only here to remind how inadequate I am:
How do I fight back?
How do I be good enough?
How do I become less dumb?
How do I make nothing stay as nothing? And appreciate everything as everything?
Because day by day, this inadequacy I feel, gets really tiring.
Sep 18, 2020
Sep 18, 2020 at 1:26 PM UTC
stainless steel and skin
do make the worst of friends
the friction
the senses
survive and protect
will love always leave
is light simply a lie
stainless
steel blades
play god and death defy
electric is my mind
my heart is numb and small
senses
just lave
Over walls cold and tall
am i just worth not
the love ; you're unaware.
doesn't
hurt much
i'll go deeper so you care
my mind only filled
with endorphins happy red
pockets
of proof
of life; the raccoon fed
stainless steel and skin
do make the best of friends
buzzing,
living.
the cuts and seams i penned
Mar 16, 2021
Mar 16, 2021 at 8:24 AM UTC