the weather
was too perfect
to not drive
with the windows down
knowing the pollen
was dangerous
and would lead
to a sinus infection.

now i long to feel
the breeze on my swollen
cheek as the trees blur
into a static verdancym

i am aware my particular
poisons only lead to pain
yet the masochist in me
knows bleeding is part
of the puerile process.

the universe is built
on cyclical self destruction
i choose to embody this
virtue in my every mistake.