a repetitive
cycle of
exhaustion
longing to
sleep with
the knowledge
it can only
bring dreams
which then
keep me awake
yearning for
a happiness
the universe
does not find
me worthy of
a consistency
of feeling
punchdrunk as
hope drives by
middle finger
extended out
the window

i float
in a state of
vegetative
denial
a collection
of anxieties
in full bloom
warily wilting
in the turgid
oppression of
depression’s
itchy embrace

torn free from a
cocoon woven of
egyptian cotton
lined in crimson
fleckeddreamshatter
a moth drawn
to beauty
on wings made
of scar tissue
shaped by loss
flying headfirst
into panes of
painted glass
a rhythmic
taptaptapping
on the window
growing weaker
drunk on dismay