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untitled 6
February 9, 2023
My self-flagellation is at an all-time high
20 miles up
In the cerulean sky
And for the record,
I haven’t felt like this
Since I was a boy
And dontcha feel like the edgy blue teen
Spitting lines about their mind
“That great big island”
They say
“With great big complexity”
Dontcha feel like brooding
Out of a stormy window
Dontcha sigh about the great big world?
And I’m not
I‘m not in the right headspace
Maybe it’s cus I shot myself
out
in hand sanitizer and hair spray
And I’m not
I’m not here to fight.
I’m sitting in the eye of the storm
It’s like a summer breeze is running
Between the gaps of my fingers
A tsunami to surf on
An earthquake to fall through
I’ve become the Earth’s core
Only to be an idea that lingers.
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