breadcrumbs are for the birds

I don’t like being alone
    yet I don’t like being in a crowd

       I’ve adapted to loneliness
           now it’s second nature
              is it wise
                   did I have a choice

                             How exactly
                         does introspection
                               present itself

                       How else does one mend
                           fences in themselves
                                 they’ve broken?

                       Who do people announce to
              time & again their own staggering

Their epiphanies/their rebirth?

                            Who then
                                 besides them
                                      gives acknowledgement?



I can’t explain how I feel out loud
since I know others have it all wrong
Mindful there’s always someone
worse off
& right now it’s just me____
And a potential future down the bottle

So where’s the light at the end of the tunnel
Or am I just going to catch it tomorrow
Speeding towards a new day’s uncertainty
A truant kind of destiny?
I have not been taking care of myself lately so
I know I should start there

But a devil on my shoulder hisses it’s
“A fruitless endeavor; you’re meant to fail
whatever you came here for it’s not there
and no one cares, now suck it up,
spit it out, every bad memory taking shape in your mouth”
Don’t ever leave, don’t ever try

Just pray you’ll survive the night


Then there was One

I grind my teeth in my sleep
& halfheartedly say it must be stress
I don’t know that yet… maybe I’m
too tightly “wired” & something
flipped the Switch
I am a blackened bulb st(r)uck on

I am the ghost that reappears unaged
from the day you last saw me alive
My eyes coast over; misty goldgray glass
held up to a warm icy blue
& it’s like I never saw you
How much I like to play “pretend”!

the fuck
have all of my “friends”
[gone] to?




(Author’s Note: Peering through a hindsight glass can make old faces appear in color like a kaleidoscope.)


Lo’ and behold,
You do as you’re told
and the consequence
remains the same.

Poor lamb. You shine outdoors
seeking hope in stars
because they fill the cavern
you made when you said “shame”.

Don’t you Ever want to start over?

Don’t you Ever want to turn back time?

Little defeats, apocalyptic defeats,
Nomadic retreat into yourself &
Ask yourself this;

Do you think even
If the outcome were shifted. . .
even the slightest
You still would’ve been
Who you are &
what you are