I felt the rising panic
A burning garden
Why did I let myself do that
My anxiety climbs and swirls up
Like a thousand insects
Bees perhaps
And I know you will come back to see this poem, myself,
When you feel guilty again.

I drove into a wilderness of lost themes
And entered a house of broken dreams.
Your nightmares live here, they all said.
But when I entered, my nightmares sat at the
kitchen table, dead.
I partook of this ghastly tea party
With a high amount of lethargy
And slowly became numb
To all emotions but one.

I never want to
take off
these pajamas.
They're the ones
I was resurrected in.

Its funny how when someone steals your stuff that you'll go
chasing after them
but
when someone steals your heart
you just watch them
leave.

Time is a fair weather friend
it

hangs

around
to annoy me

and r                  u                  n             s
away
when I need
it.

Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die

Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days' worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.