Two thirds of my brain’s
Synapses are devoted to procrastination,
One third is partitioned for panic.
Wherein do I find peace?
Reconstruction on the physical level
Is possible via synaptic repositioning.
Someone please let me borrow your hands for neurosurgery.
Don’t bother being careful,
Whatever happens in there
Has to be for the better.
Nueronal homicide.
Trying to sleep
Is like expecting failure,
Projecting stale fear,
I worry I’ll wake up asleep,
In reality I’ll have never
Had time to experience unconsciousness.
Where’s my brains emergency stop button?
“Unleash your fantasies!”
Earth eroded, yard-fence cracks,
Veinous pulmonary pulsating,
Arcing gravity strained trees,
Dole muscular throbbing,
Inanimatacy sympathizes.
One-hundred and eighty-three
Credits, as good as arcade tokens.
Maybe I should graduate,
Sober up my work history.
Money slides under my nose,
I smell it, but fuck it.
Becoming a Dr. or a mad scientist?
Is it worth the slave labor?
Credibility means nothing,
Only fidelity to proud prowess.
One day I’ll be someone something thinks they care about.
Today was Wednesday
No,
Today was chemistry
Yes.
Chemistry amidst symmetry
Synonymous with relationship
Ionic bonds forming.
Iron rods strung across his eyes,
He can’t imagine
Vision void of cowardice.
He remembers yesterday
But denies having lived it,
He remembers tomorrow
But claims it’s over.
Gleams of hippy-rainbow-light
Blur in the homeless underpass,
A sun-drenched riverside walk
Passes him by.
He’s foolish, and subserving,
But he steps down from his
High-horse
And explicates his human feelings
To a girl he met
Not a weeks time ago.
Born a baby, human hubris,
Trained through sibling rivalry,
Try-hard, or rather constitution based pride.
Working cherries, polybagging consumered boxes,
At the age of nine,
Cherry torture, kept me sane.
Community college, by sixteen years,
Barista in combination,
I assumed greatness, innately.
Childhood seemed, like a horse race,
With me being miles ahead,
The finish line appeared near,
But it was in fact, a static stride against myself.
I’m tired.
Why am I tired?
I shouldn’t be tired.
Melatonic misery retorts
Cortisoled corruption fires
My body’s tactic for fighting
Quitting at the sign of critical thinking
The theory of matter has no matter in my mind.
When did Spring
Reminisce of day light savings?
When did the rain
Orgy begin again?
Past Springs seem participled
In a chord of angry verbs.
Nostalgia clings to the moldy bread
Winter forgot to toss.
I can’t remember why I hate today
Maybe I’ll be reminded
After suffocating the pinhole
And reinventing the reasons
Today candidly delivered.
Am I who you know?
Are you a praline wheat roux
Buttery smooth
All sex no communication
Am I who you grope?
Take from the tree
Eating the apple isotope
Break me off a leg
Feed it to a pride of sea crags
Sensory sense overpowers
Creative powerhouses
Shutting down terminal illness
Pardon me Mr. Ma’am
I don’t mean to conjugate
Your conjecture and crassity
Take it from me, for free, naught
I am not who you know
Nor are you who you are.
