No recycling
Dump your garbage here

You’ll stumble, stutter
My gesture, you sat.
End with a bump

Strangers and Irish car bombs
Intervention, mortal if anything.

Louder than me
He sat in your seat
The pasta was better
Communication more clear
But I still want to puke all the time
I’m no better, wish I was
I actually am it just feels pointless and it’s easy
To cave

For me to be
Part of whatever that is
And have any chance at enjoying it
I have to change the make up of my brain.

Is there a kiosk for that at Sephora?

My Destiny?
The solution to my conflicts?
The polar of my deepest desire?

Poetically cruel.
Perfect for me.

Everything I love
Escapes with claw marks
And bruises they won’t discover
Until it matters

I’m so sorry
I didn’t want to
I miss you

What happens

Not taking any, though
accruing scripts

I think I just needed an xray