and my heart feels
torn
safety and comfort or
the unknown
...
sometimes
a poem is just
a poem
lackluster words thrown
...
she announced today
that i wouldnt want to be
alone
forever
...
anxiety ridden
basement punk concerts
and its like im existing
only there
...
they are arguing again
like clockwork
over ten dollars
outside in the crisp night air
...
its been a week
of cool weather in a different town
featuring a high crime rate
and liquor store on every corner
...
a little boy
is pounding
his shoe
against the pavement
...
the pepper plant
outside of my parents house
is
slowly dying
...
he told me
that it was either
bipolar disorder or
schizoaffective disorder
...
im writing from a car
lunging down a narrowing highway
clouds like stretchmarks are peeking
through the windshield
...