To Anybody, and Nobody

I think, wistfully,
of you
then of all the missed chances
stillborn
in my sleep.

Staring into the screen, I see stars

I want to elope
with your wayward
words
your yellowed skin
fingered
frantic
found


feverish
in intent
of emancipating me
from cubicle hell

Blowing. Breathing. Brewing.

Over the past week, my scent has changed. I smell of stale cigarettes and communal sweat. I smell like a million bucks stuck in a sewage line. I smell of desperation.

Ambition.
(confusion)

Resolve.
(regression)

A seismic shift in the seasons.
( ... )



I smell very different these days.

An Inconvenient Truth

I am two miles from the sun. Two miles from combusting. Two bloody miles from being consumed. My anger hides, but I know its colour.

White.

Not righteous or holy.

White.

The same perverted white in your spit-laced words. The same white your eyes lie with, the same white your lips conceal as they open and close, start and end, lie after lie. I have heard many white lies, sealed and delivered in a promise and a smile. I promise to wisen up.

Two miles from the sun, blood boils and I am livid.