Bleak, Coffee, Stupor, Gin.
severely fragmented flashes
lead to blank frustration
never computed to what
my body does,
what other bodies do.
it's not gluttony, it's emptiness-
i always have something in my hand.
the mirror in my mind grasps
at different concepts of myself
like a pawn shop
how much can i get for
this
other options
newer models.
i am happy i just
analyze
my mind numbers emotions
turns them into freeform jazz
writes down the melody and rests
that occupies me for hours
from a distance.
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