too many trips
just ahead of me
too many new
too many
haunted houses
spread across
what was once a
paradise on the
other side of
the infinite ocean
a series of
decrepit graveyards
a surplus of
and all i want
is to hide
in my shell
in my personal
hell of poor
self perceptions
rather than
intermingle with
a world that
hasn’t acknowledged
me once
the latchkey kid
and his carry on
emotional baggage
coming to a
city near you
with six foot of
brand new rope
and thirteen loops
of indecisiveness
a ball of anxieties
in static discharge
a trail of
scorch marks
and the ashes of
paper hearts and
declarations written
in fresh blood
scattered behind
a heartsick fool
and his itinerary
of unfulfilled desires


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s