5/6/19 207AM
on my quiet stoop
i can feel my skin shuffle
it writhes and molts
like snakeskin
and i am just as serpentine
swallowing my lonesome whole
my gullet bulges
eat your sorrow
choke on your own breath
as i imagine the best demons behind me
the only demons here
burst from my chest
and are more miserable than i
i am so lined with silver
that not even they can kill me
jump off pointless bridges
shoot yourself with prop guns
drink whiskey labeled arsenic
and eat until you burst
i lost love a long time ago
and find it daily
but it is just as fleeting
as it was on the canal
the human condition
is one of perpetual motion
rocking yourself from birth to death
back and forth forever
oscillate and reprogram
insulate from rejection
and reject yourself
it’s all a young person can do
until we sell our toenails
to be made into glue