We're all hungry, and most of us haven't contemplated that quite enough.

I feed on you, like you knew I would

Because we’re just smitheerens

Small broken pieces, tiny bits

Oddities that a dictionary can’t hope to define properly


A stanza isn’t enough

We need a goddamn orchestra

On this sinking ship where all the sentences run on until they get swallowed

By the burning whiskey running down the backs


Of our throats


Because dissonance pleases us, and pleasing ourselves is what we do best


The end shouldn’t be contemplated

Because we don’t get to decide how the end arrives

Merry meet and merry met but I’m not married to anything anymore


We all wish we were blessed, but mostly, we pray for things we don’t really need

And shouldn’t you really be able to thrive with less than you have

Maybe all you need is

A new bruise to remind you


How close the ground is to your face

These goddamn walls are driving me mad

Eggshells to walk on, and a generic existence sequestered 


Between walls painted in something called eggshell


I have to be 

Screams the demon, angel, voice, phantom

The one that drives me forward

Into tomorrow


Whispering about sweetness and offering something different

When I reach out to take the lie


We all need to feed


On what

I don’t know

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