This will get me though.
Always and forever, not that anything lasts that long.
Dual citizen, heartbreak in the cold.
Heat breaks. Dissipates.
And lunch fails to help me.
That photo of cracked skin.
puffy, scaled.
Energy sapped.
Too much masturbating.
Blood on my lips.
My index.

Reminiscent of the wombats.
Client Liaison
Talking heads.
What a name what a name.
Spitting mouths
Leaking lips.
Split teeth.
Cracked smiles.
miles of maw.
more more
Words of oh.
Shapely somethings.
Mouthing muchos.
Misrepresented.
MM
The hummings.
The strum.
Moan.
Mourn.
man.
Missed chances.
Milky treats.
Teats.
Sucker punched teething.
Brittle memories.

And its all gone and my mind needs to focus and follow a thought for longer than a minute, or ten. Follow it, think it out. Scattered.
Like pebbles, stones thrown.
One hand-full into the ocean.
ripples on waves,
impossible to process until you’re outside of the environment.
Climates change.
And happiness and sadness are only memories,
the privilege of a moments reflection.
Ramming onwards, asking nothing of the moment but to experience and hope to be able to look back on it.
Last night I looked at my hands, blinking tears from my eyes,
awake.
So awake and alive.
Draining.
Sieve.
Clouds, of flour,
memories like ghosts
wafting over me,
turning my black clothes white.
no spots to damn.
Blankets and bed. Heaving chest.
Broken arms,
of back, curled and worthless.
Spouting pissed nonsense.
and the memory shrouds me.
Look at my hands,
the sky-light lets in too much.
My skin, like fine fishnets.
Scars and caves,
gouges of hidden moments.
Lost in a sort of mist.
And I reflect.
AI copies, stores what we miss.
But we must be ourselves and reflect on all the pebbles we’ve thrown.
The balls we’ve dropped.
The nutty times,
the craze of days spent-
from awaking from sleep and dreading to face the day.
To move.
Horizontal, circulation just fine.
And hoping for change.
But wishing for nothing more.