You have to sing but not too much. You have dance but not too much. You have to help but not help. You have to access their confidence but not too much. You have to be honest but not too honest.
There are a lot of them when I can't even say your name then I lay down in a heap of heavy sighs and the night presses me under itself like a lonely widow dressed in black
would you rather fight every living human or check the signal chat? it's a toss-up every time a dissection of the risks involved in what started as a discussion group and quickly became the war of words you scream to the universe
You are a rotely opinion-headed zeitgeister— already diagnosed and hooked up to the slow death of a dystopiclly present despot's di(e)ialysis machine creating simulacric smackstackey musings
Grassfires accented the hot season but we were always safe: a dirt road between the cinder block wall and the grassland’s edge served as our moat of solid ground
I cannot walk the park and miss its crop of needles. I cannot reach for fish behind glass without scales impaling my wrists. Those trees I admired, the ones syringe-like in winter. Yes, needles.
