poetry
is a gateway
to fucking up
your life,
it seems
my story
gets more
pathetic
with every
lie put to
meter
every word
carved
out of this
infinite
sadness
that is more
real
than any
succor
in the bosom
of creation
zero validation
cathartic
only in the way
the focus
shifts
to dissect
unravel
discombobulate
the stains
ever flowing
along the le brea
sinpools
that gather
in the silence
wrapped softly
over
cardiac infractions
soulshivering
the quicksilver
anithesis of ego
in bone marrow
soliloquies
sung between
bated breaths.

poetry
is a goddamned
ponzi scheme
leading
ever closer
to fucking up
a perfectly good
excuse
for
existence.