Monday, December 18, 2017

There is somebody living in my skin.

Everyday I wake up
and begin dying
there is somebody living in my skin
this wretched horror
rebels and riots
and it is winning.
Everyday I wake up
I wake up less
as this monster
phases out my habits
stops calling my friends
finds new modes of expression
and looks down on things
I look back on fondly.

. . .


at No comments:
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)

Resourceful.

It’s not about what you have done, Or what you can do. It’s not a thing that’s bound to reality. Our unhappiness is bound only by our i...

  • Something about Summer.
    sent me reeling, into words, more words, as I tried to put a finger on that feeling. . . .
  • Communication Gaps and Rude Humans.
    Life came to a standstill, when there was a rumor at the mill, about a parrot at the zoo, which could not only talk, but talk back ...
  • Keeper.
    Like everything else, this was trivial. knowing that, I kept it at heart. Secret. Safe from the world. Hoping one day, I'll meet so...