page count
set to constant reset
my toenails are too long
but they grow so god damn fast
I am naked
sitting on my robe,
I wonder why the windows are closed
but I don't get up,
I'm too busy typing
there was a group of girls
on the balcony below
they didn't stay up too late
probably tired from work or school
retire after a few drinks
I taste beer in my throat
tho I've had none,
writing poetry always conjures
that taste, like stale pretzels
and old beer, like failure
or tiny pin pricks on my scalp,
I felt my stomach drop
when I got my hair trimmed today
like my intestines slipped out
and back in, like a roller coaster ride,
like vertigo, maybe,
I understand there's something beyond,
it was written in the fallen strands,
dead ends, wet curled forgotten
cuts,
I wish the light could be dimmed
but it's one setting,
I am alone in the night that's too much
like the day, poison light,
what must be going on all those miles away,
it must be something,
I think I'll sleep soon,
I'll do it for those who can't,
there's always somebody awake
when they shouldn't be, somewhere.
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