"inconsistency" poems
Hold the universe inside my palms
I alone understand it is but a solitary dream
Between stars I make out memories
Connecting dots, forming images ingrained in my mind
I look in the unfilled depths of sky where suns have yet to burn out, remaining eternally preserved in an explosion of beauty lightyears away wondering about humans peering at their ambience through time and space
This isolated reflection I witness change in compliance with the predetermined path set in motion by the astrological forces of nature
Unstable
My hands must be trembling
Scared of sorrow and frustration they undeniably confront
The fear of the uncertain, the inconsistency of the unapologetic future awaiting
Solemn visions of an imperfect outcome, enough torment to push strength a bit too far over the edge
Fragile balance of peace and chaos resting within cupped desperate hands
Ignorant, the quickness of extinction among synapses in the cavern lighting the entirety of my skull
Pinned under familiar self-induced delusions
Galaxies silently begging for permanent freedom
Such fate to let their wishes dangle ignored
Urges within bursting, released
That moment I also give in
Forcefully close my fingers into a fist
Instantly crushing wild constellations scattered around my consciousness
A great deal more fragile than realized
Once unshakable destiny budged a millimeter by one lone act of rebellion
Against a powerful pull the majority pretend is rigid
Elusive control by way of self-combustion of life's temporary illusions
Proof one touch can fell worlds of fantasy
Founded on fiction
Or maybe
Reality
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
I am a humming bird with a broken wing forming a geometric fall.
I am a conjoined twin with a foot in heaven and one in hell.
I am a geyser spewing out echoes from a stonewall well.
I am an open road stretched for miles paved with a murderous smile.
I am a man with a firm handshake who stands still on top of an earthquake.
I am a visionary man who slipped on fate and fell in love.
I am a preliminary hearing fallen on deaf ears.
I am the contribution to your retribution.
I am a person of depersonalization.
I am a one man army minus one man.
I am the desired taste of orange juice and toothpaste.
I am concentrated concentration.
I am the formation of your imagination.
I am the comma for your introductory clause.
I am the cause for your sudden pause.
I am the spatula that stirs up your anxiety.
I am the reaper who never leaves a clue.
I am the lace that always chokes the shoe.
I am the light that finds its way thru helping the little shrew.
I am the suburban white boy who sings the blues.
I am consistent inconsistency.
I am your assigned tour guide for your expiration exploration.
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 5:42 PM UTC
Brazen rusted iron-scent of blood–
there, before him, a river of crimson and failed dreams.
No boat, no oars.
Just plain chivalry and bravery and yesteryears’ scars
that manifest all throughout and within him.
He dips his feet.
There were scattered skeletons
and crunched broken bones
basking under the dunes of the night.
There were ghosts clinging
unto his own ghosts;
creatures against creatures.
The tip of their swords
sinking down to his own tired flesh
in attempt to find refuge
in the treacherous wings of the forests.
He swims along.
And his shoulders were battered
and his mare was tainted–
with dirt and dust and ashes of the enemies;
with memories and silhouettes buried
sent flying along the caresses
of the north winds.
He gasps for air, and stills himself under the ebbs.
Under many moons and scarcity of life–
Scarcity of Life–
the recurring sight of the gaseous light
and the inconsistency of the breath-intervals,
he remains still and proud.
His soles burnt with pain and interminable suffering
as it crossed the stretches of the savanna.
This is his life,
dwelling on the dawn borealis
and stained with apparitions of the past
and demons and absurdity.
He has crossed the river.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
Hold it!
whole ***
whale fitting
room
bowing walls
expanding spandex
seams stretched out of shape
lurid –
disturbed images play across the screen
biggest loser season MCMXVII
American dream with heavy cream
and spleenwiches
cleaning the crumbs,
bums long for an extra morsel
gnawing on dorsal fins
grinning, toothless, at least they have their figures
that figures says the emaciated diet queen
leave it to the homeless to be the only group
worthy of the runway –
starvation date
only the grumbling cuts the uncomfortable silence
empty bellies howl for nourishment
instead are fed meds and red licorice
which is immediately vomited
for fear of caloric inconsistency –
breathing adds blubber
to thighs and midriffs
marital spiff over the last cookie
sugar substitutes
substituting themselves for love and compassion
lashing out at the one above
fat girls with teary eyes cry
for just five more pounds
the dress fit in 1978 –
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
I'm here
I'm tired
It's okay
There's no use
I'll never leave
You just want to bleed
I care about you
**I don't give a ****
Be strong for me
Leave me out of it
Stop it
I'm not going to stop you
I'll hold you down if I have to
I'm only here until I find something better
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
I am from inconsistency,
forced adjustment,
eternally molding in a feeble attempt to appease my demanding environment.
I am from the loophole of the universe with no purpose,
few absolutes,
and a limited amount of time.
From laugh tracks,
reminding me when to laugh,
and for how long.
From the boredom at the bottom,
I've been Thriving in the *** trough,
endlessly scrounging for solutions and temporary entertainment.
From redundant ideas and places,
stale bread,
flat coke,
familiar situations and words.
On a screen in america
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
It sways and flickers
away. Like a wren.
The flame stains the glass
and reflects fully
the inconsistency.
Casts shadows
on the wall
Frightful swirls.
Turns wax to syrup
Sweet, seduced I want to swallow it
Feel the liquid fire scald my throat.
I shouldn't be allowed to have candles.
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
pap
pap
pap
I can't breath
my stomach is bubbling
like hot cheese
on an fresh oven pizza
my legs feel skinny
I want to lean into a wall
the floor looks spinny
the wainscoting is squint
my vision is blurry
because...tears?
Why is there worry
in my middle?
I feel fine,
my mind is sound
this fear isn't mine
what’s it doing here?
What is this panic?
Fight or flight I understand,
but this is plain manic.
I need to go
at top speed
or maybe hide?
Either way, be freed
from this distress.
pap
pap
pap
Push someone over,
human shield that ****
reduce my exposure
to hyperventilation.
Shallow in,
shallow out,
I feel akin
to sprinting Mufasa
Pure distress
acute discomfort,
a proper mental problem. Nonetheless,
it’s strange to foresee the diagnosis.
It’s as if I’m watching
from someone else’s skin
as alligator clamps are botching
holding my physiology in.
A sunburn on my innards,
a paperweight within
you’d think I’d feel pride
for finally having something wrong.
Hypochondria being accurate
the years of inventing doom,
suddenly isn't aberrant
those fabrications had substance.
Or maybe all these thinks
are symptoms in themselves
after sifting through piles of shrinks,
maybe I can finally get some help.
pap
pap
pap
Look at my pretty framed prescription,
doctor certified, messy handwriting,
this will take some decryption...
don’t worry, take your time,
this pathoreaction won't go away.
I’m told desolation
is a temperament set to stay
until after eighteen simple payments.
I’m inclined to reject treatment
of drugs that fiddle with the mind
I’d rather stay present,
continue inconsistency.
I would like to try narration,
see how many kilometers I can recall.
I can deal with frustration,
so let’s talk about my childhood.
Public transit without destination
sends me on a revere,
an absence of crippling desperation.
I've found peace before
it was between yellow poles,
in the outside pocket
of a backpack on parole.
It smiled at me quietly.
pap
pap
pap
Apparently, it’s the small things
that help you deal with anxiety.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 6:10 AM UTC
I walk around my hundred person hot tub party
and I
cannot feel anything
crawling through my veins alcohol takes over
alone in my yellow living room full of people
\\
The girls from the local apartments are here
they arrive in groups of three
five
six
sometimes in long trains of sixteen
I try not to **** my pants with laughter
as I hug and greet each one as they grace my home
I never thought I would be this person
this tongue tied host
\\
the felons are here talking about their latest stints in jail
the Olympian is talking about how he walked next to Lebron James at the opening ceremony
the musicians are serenading a girl that does not want to hear it
plastic bags have been placed over the smoke alarms
the marine is talking about killing in the desert
leaning on the northward wall I take a long drag of my blunt trying to look aloofly attractive
, but failing miserably at the act
until she walked up to me
red leather jacket
skin so soft
binding black dress
I liberated her from it and she kissed me
Kissing her back emptied my inhibitions and the morning after: when I found out he was in love with her and I had slept with her; I felt alone all over again
She ran when this was spoken
Me and him fought with our fists
nothing got resolved
all of a sudden
I feel isolation again
just like the party
leaning on the northward wall
having made thirty conversations
none of which compel me
finally leaving me to the world
that exists in my head
THE ONE I CONTROL
\\
I have this negative kick back
whenever I feel something going too nice
I just want to be in my room
alone
with a computer
books
marijuana
a chair
pen
paper
precious paradise
I want to run
tear my flesh off my chest
rip into a heavy metal howl
then have blasting music come in
come in from every corner of the room
the bass tones would bounce from the corners
the high tones would bounce of the walls and refract rapidly
and I would be gone
now wondering
what my position is to where they stand
\\
What worlds we can mentally create
and which do we want to step into
Sometimes the ability is strong on Tuesdays but not on Thursdays
Why the inconsistency?
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
I never understood the reason I cry before things end
is because the man that was supposed to wake up every morning and tell me I was worthy,
only ever texted me on my birthday to tell me he was proud.
As if he ever played any part in raising the person I am today.
How dare he show his face every other holiday and act as if the good in me came from him.
I've spent the last twenty years using boys to fill his void.
I've spent the last twenty years begging those to stay that were never meant to.
Because the only way I knew to recognize a man's love was in his inconsistency.
You tell me you want me but the daylight fades over and over and I haven't heard from you in two weeks.
I learned when I was 5 years old that a man's words mean nothing when his actions don't align.
I am done giving you the benefit of the doubt.
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 8:15 PM UTC
When my height is matched only by my age,the sage told me, 'that I will have found an ecstasy so rare,that no one will ever, have ever been there.
I count the rings as if I am a tree
but ecstasy eludes me, as I knew it would.
I could have counted grains of sand and after,started on the rice or carved upon a cuckoos egg,something very nice,just to let the cuckoo know,that we know why she builds no nest.
I have festered long enough and boiled up in the glare of a staring midday sun,it's time and time has just begun to interest me,
never mind the ecstasy, that will come as surely as the night begets the day,one day my day will arrive in all its splendour.
This is the agenda that I look towards the sky and pray for,
a gender difference in her magnificence and I would bow before this maiden,laden as I am with all these wantings in my head.
I read once in a book,
that all it took was just a look and then we're trapped,wrapped inside her spider web,carried off and eaten in her silken bed,but I would like to try it anyway,come what may my day will run before the settings of another sun and I will taste that which is fun or I will die,
in contempt and contemptuous of my inconsistency,I allude again to my search for ecstasy and is it that my eyes or indeed my body fail me,when she hails me from her sanctuary?
and I see only what I want to see,
something that the sage had been careful not to tell me,
fruitless.
On the tree of evolution, I am just some insects ignorant secretion and as I wait for some predetermined 'who dares wins'completion
I count again the rings.
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 8:21 AM UTC
She...she sets the mood with her thigh high dress
She...she sets the tone with her mind on ***
But she thinks "resist"... for confusion, confusion sets in when lust becomes stronger than love.. oh, has lust become stronger than us?
For I...
I...have fallen for you
You have become my addiction..oh..
Have my heart in your conviction,
Lock me up...
Throw away the key,
A prisoner in your inconsistency...
For has lust become stronger than love...
Has lust become stronger than us?
I don't know...don't ask me if I care
Addicted to your eyes, please don't stop with your stares
Blood drippin down the stairs, from something shattered.
Buzzed off the mixture - of emotions and disaster.
Alone, alone in my room - oh
Where you set the tone...hm, set the tone
With your *** with your mind
Only question is this time...
Did lust become stronger than love?
How did we forget...did we forget about us?
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 9:58 PM UTC
I whisper to the dark,
Because it's the shelter I need.
I stare at the sky,
Because it's the freedom I crave.
I close my eyes to the ocean,
Because it's the inconsistency I hate.
I glare at the shadows,
Because they're the emptiness I bear.
I cry to the dandelions,
Because they're the youth that I've lost.
I shout at the clouds,
Because they're the oppression I fear.
I laugh to the stars,
Because they're the mysteries unsolved.
I curse at wishbones,
Because they're the lies I recall.
I bargain to numbers,
Because they're the inevitable I resist.
I flinch at street corners,
Because they're the openness I lack.
I'm surrounded by thoughts,
And I wish I could see the world
With eyes untainted by life.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
This inconsistency that rumbles
Churning within the recesses of my ribs
I down a pill of self pity with a swig of pride
And tell the pain to go away
Tell myself it was never there
That I'm fine I'm good smooth it over
Put a baggy shirt on so you can't see
The holes behind the recesses of my ribs
Loving you is easy in theory
And most of the time in reality too
But sometimes when you ask me to do that little task or tell you that little thing
Something within me threatens to snap
Because I perceive that you see the satisfaction of your need to be more important than my current occupation
And I feel unseen
Even though I know you see me best
And I feel victimized even though I know your request is perfectly reasonable
And so the contradiction of awareness
When I see the inconsistency in me blaring crimson red and midnight blue
And I don't know what to do with these colors
I don't know what image to paint or what brush to use
I don't even know who I'd give the painting to
Or if I'd keep it for myself
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 9:00 AM UTC
And now, Mary?
What do we do, Mary?
Where do I go, Mary?
Why now, Mary?
But why, Mary?
Come on, Mary.
It hurts, Mary.
Give us a chance, Mary.
Let’s make it work, Mary.
Oh, please, Mary!
And you, Mary?
What do you feel, Mary?
It’s someone else, Mary?
What do you think, Mary?
Where’s your love, Mary?
Okay!
It’s spent.
It’s over.
It’s not as it used to be.
This is too much!
Bye, Mary.
Hi, Jane.
Nice to meet you, Jane.
I love you, Jane!
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 4:48 PM UTC
a message sent to me:
“I know you, Marrano, secret Jew of my heart, weakened by words and strengthened thereby...stout man of words”^
a stranger invasion - his technology, a new combine of words,
percentage of perception high, a ferreting scraping of tissue,
an abrasion of spoiler alerts that are not hidden but now summoned, despite being unbidden early on a Sabbath morn
and at this, my haunted hours, this secret Jew,
wanders unexplored yet familiar routes
of his well traveled innards,
pondering this sweet Shylock Accusation, nay,
this confessional truth, but more, the nut of his essence that ‘tis
his conviction, his twisted sentencing, the exact lived-level of
a hellish Dante verse that shreds the escape of sleep,
that is home
“weakened by words and strengthened thereby”
words forced to the fore, peremptorily summoned,
this inconsistency so constant, his battle,
where neither victory, loss or truce, are resolutions legitimate,
contradictory poems are the tension production
of this high wire act of the man, a performance
best assessed as one of always slipping,
more near-falling failing than cross walking,
employing his word emissions as a balancing pole,
and balancing is a sometime thing
I am not an illusionist - if anything, a disillusionist
there are stanzas writ
but unspoken
that shall not be out-spit
here or now; for lengthy answers already exist,
in a thousand prior scripts
and
the thin wire of preservation
teaches the value of brevity
stout, I think not,
man of words,
no doubt,
one who is both,
a secret Marrano and a Jew, fully exposed,
and one who is
“weakened by words and strengthened thereby”
12/2/17 The Sabbath 3:33am
<•>
extra credit reading
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/529429/the-true-tale-of-shylocks-pound/
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 1:43 PM UTC
Consistently, I'll crave your inconsistency,
Consistently, inconsistent
Because--
Heaven, is what I feel when you touch my
Skin.
And when you sin with me in the dark,
Dark night I wonder if I
Might
Get the chance for this song and dance to last
The past is holding you back
From me.
Be still, stop running
Stop ruining everything in your path
Self-destruction
Funnily enough, I know you're slipping through
My fingers, so
Linger no longer in my bleeding heart
Just part ways with me already, I am not
Steady
On my own two feet with/out you
See? I am defeated, I am so defeated
As I crave our moments, so
Heated
Hot like fire; soulful desire
Dire
Is my craving for you to admire
Me.
But you won't see--
Me.
Be---ating hearts, stutter,
Flutter
Muttering soft murmurs of want,
Of need, of peace, of release
Haunt me
With your absence,
Have sense
To never come back
I won't take you back,
(Lie)
I won't take you back
(Lie, lie all I do is lie)
My, by and by I slowly die
And without care
You stare at my pain
And scoff
A brush, a kick in the dirt,
Don't you see my hurt?
Ghosted by you,
You don't see anything through
To the end
Scared little boy,
Ruined little boy.
Hurt little boy,
I would've loved you,
Little boy.
You foolish tool
I bid you adieu,
My Ghost.
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 11:44 PM UTC
You're my contradiction
Inconsistency ablaze in every thought
Fighting for control against my need for your touch
My desire for your body
Whilst inside my head
The truth creeps like a soft footed Panther
Around the jungle of my mind
I'm
f
a
l l
i
n
g
I don't know where I will land
I know what this is
You said you loved me .....
But I don't believe you
(C) Pixievic
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 4:59 AM UTC
For you, my dear
I will simply try to hear you
Not to always agree,
Or discern the false from the true
Kept meaning to quiet my own thoughts
While I held still for hours trying to understand
Or decipher the inconsistency of the words
Without the satisfaction of a well thought out and productive plan.
I pray you will find happiness within
By chance, our next chance meeting shall be less invasive
Oh, what beautiful spirit cannot contain
So mystical, enchanting and always brave.
I bid you, farewell
My forever friend
I'll think of you often
Where have you been?
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 12:01 PM UTC
large mobs,
listening from the outside,
poking and prodding at our lives,
upholding our monkey brains
while manipulating our emotions;
everyone tries to fix things for us
he actually thought he did
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 3:10 AM UTC
Pain disfigures into numbness in the silence that screams at me
like so many crazed thoughts.
A heated state cools into quiet resentment.
Regardless of how I feel, how you do,
this night has changed us irreparably.
How can you say these things are equal?
Where do you get off?
Your half-sung apologies fall heavy on deaf ears.
Can you feel me ignoring you?
You think I let you down?
I needed to do something with my hands.
You
have shown to me
the inconsistency of love.
Nothing is unconditional.
If it were, I wouldn't even be here fighting with you.
Those words, also labile,
were the truth in the moment,
regardless of tomorrow.
I may love you,
but I hated you then.
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC
The pressure behind my eyes swells
Like the tide under a full moon.
Waves crack against my rocky shores
And shatter over me.
Shards wash away
But most stay lodged in my bleeding heart.
And I love you anyway.
I love you despite your inconsistency
and insensitivity.
I love you even though
I can't stand too close
Without feeling worthless.
I love you even though
You're radioactive.
I love you despite the fact that you never
Held me the way I needed you to.
You were never there
The way I was there for you.
When I needed you the most,
You looked into my crying eyes
And walked away.
But I love you anyway.
I needed you a lot
And maybe I was too clingy.
But maybe i wouldn't have held
Onto you so tightly
If I could be sure you would be there
When I reached for you.
You always knew
That I would drop anything
And everything to be there for you.
But you never gave me that security.
Still, I love you
I love you even though
I can't be sure of
Who you are anymore.
You used to show me how you felt
You used to let me know.
But you've become so robotic
I'm not sure you feel a thing anymore.
And I love you.
You used to smile
You used to laugh
Now your eyes are empty
Except for racing calculations.
Always thinking
Never feeling.
You're barely human anymore,
Just a machine
That won't stop spewing
And fixing things that aren't broken.
Yet, I love you.
And you wonder why
Your friends are gone
You wonder why you feel so alone.
You won't reach anyone
Where they need to be felt.
And I love more than anything.
I love you like I might die tomorrow.
I love you even though you don't love me anymore.
I love you even though you broke promises you never made.
I love you even though you don't deserve my love anymore.
Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 1:24 PM UTC
To my ex-girlfriend's rebound,
I was the one who told her you were gay,
so, in a way,
your experience was my fault
and for that I am sorry
While she did not cheat on me with you, you still served a purpose to her in a time of loneliness,
Those moments where she led you to believe that she cared for you and that she wanted something more
And I'm not mad at you for falling for her.
You've seen her,
you've heard her,
felt her touch and
the fire she lit inside when she looked at you
But you also felt the burn of her
leaving you.
You felt the prospect of having time with her tomorrow being ripped away like an old band aid
I know that feeling all too well,
See
I was not quite angry at you for kissing her-- or rather, letting her kiss you and falling for her inconsistency--I felt betrayed
Seeing as I knew you from class where
We'd shared deep poetry with one another,
and though we never spoke individually,
you heard the words that bled from my paper,
you could undeniably feel my devotion to her,
my undying love,
her unbearable significance in my life.
And then you had to rip a band-aid off of me too,
Simply to make yourself feel better
While I'm more than grateful that you disclosed your relations with her,
Trying to guilt trip me and hyperbolize the experience?
That is from where my problem grew
You made it out like I stole her from you when my biggest sense of pride in that relationship came from the fact that I
NEVER
Not even once
Tried to contact her after she broke up with me
Yes,
in the moment I begged for her back
But once I left her bedroom,
That was it.
Yes,
every inch of me cracked under that pressure caused by the sense of drowning that came with her letting me go
And **** right I cried myself to sleep every night
Dreaming that she'd come back
And,
for the second time,
She did.
When she called me that night,
at 3am balling her eyes out
Though skeptical,
I was there for her
She begged for a chance at forgiveness
And I gave it to her
Little did I know that
that same night
You had peeled yourself from her pillows when she asked you to leave
After all the
"kissing"
"cuddling" and
"compliments"
And yet
She.
Called.
Me.
So while I still hold resentment toward you for your vengeance toward me
I thank you for being honest with me, even with the intended malice behind your disclosure
And I shouldn't hold on to this anger any longer:
I heard the pain in your voice when you came for your shoes and found me in her bed instead
I felt your anger as you flaunted your experience with her
And I know your pain at the realization that she lied to you and it all meant very little to her
She did it to me too
Then again, this grudge may be one of the last things still connecting me to her
And maybe I'm not ready to let that go
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 1:10 AM UTC
I’ve spent my days spiraling,
or branching,
triangulating,
and running in circles,
with time always
for counting petals,
or coloring.
My cerebral bouquet,
farewell,
I resign myself
to stems and
straight edges,
at risk, with
tenuous grip,
of an imminent
scalpel-slip,
and the ultimatum
in severed-sphere-
reconstruction.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
Today is my first day without you, like really without you.
Before, there was always a chance, always a hope that things would be okay and that we would work out.
But today is the start of a new chapter, where you and me don't exist, and there is no us, maybe, or one day.
I am free of the lies you told, the mistreatment, and the disdain.
I'm free of the inconsistency, callousness, and pain.
There are no more chances, no forgiveness, or apologies to accept.
There or no more talks, or possibilities, or "just want to catch up"s.
Your power is gone, the one you held over me like a grim reaper, waiting for me to falter.
The worst kind of monster... Welcoming me with open arms, only to lead me down the spiral of insanity.
I'm done, and I'm ready, but I'm not yet okay.
But I know that now I can work towards feeling that again one day.
And it hurts, but maybe that's the pain that I need.
Perhaps it's just that which will finally break the cycle of awful, maddening repetition.
I know some days I will move forward and some days I'll fall back, but at least you won't be there to remind me just how much.
I will never again hate myself for letting you in.
This is not the end, and I'm so ready to begin.
So today I will celebrate your absence, as a never-ending holiday.
I am so thankful that I chose not to let you stay.
Because none of this was worth it, and if I could I would change so many things, and wish all of it away.
So goodbye, my love, the one haunting my past.
The one who appears in my nightmares, including the one I live every day.
Who's there to remind me that I'm weak, and I'm broken, and that no truer words have ever been spoken, except...
I'm more whole than you'll ever be, especially now you have to live without me.
Jan 31, 2022
Jan 31, 2022 at 8:16 AM UTC