six sevenths

over the span of seven years every cell in your body is replaced six more and maybe i’ll no longer crave your touch the ache has reduced by one seventh but six sevenths is still too much


i read an article on the weight of a human soul wonder if mine is heavier due to sin does sorrow add ten pounds like a television camera or is mine drooping from gravitational pull i cannot say


a lone lily sitting in a vase petals once vibrant now hanging low i speak to it hoping to breathe life into it i know how it feels though sometimes the world is just too heavy

colored string

thunder rattles the windows breaking the silence that rattles my mind the storm outside will eventually break but i fear i am already broken swept away down the gutter like a piece of colored string


seven point six billion people on this planet then why do i feel completely alone call it depression this ragged feeling of inconsequence or maybe i woke from a dream and it is reality grinding me to paste

new day

cockroach in the coffee cup he takes errant sips brown against the brown brush against the lips a new day dawns maggots in the soft cheese mold on the bread everything is tainted happiness is dead a new day dawns the face staring back from the mirror is unfamiliar, laugh lines like headstones, reminders of […]