I shoulder the brunt
Of our reconciliations,
The impetuous monologues cast
To an irate and weathered audience.
–
Tonight tempest is a state of being.
–
Everything we know is either
Needless or sullied beyond lavation.
Your taciturn grin peels off,
Siphoning shadows of
Their metaphysical substance.
I don’t have enough time for conversation
I’d rather slice my veins lengthwise
Then contemplate another disaster.
–
Within our deepest reaches we find the graves of our ancestors.
–
So many impositions, voices cataloging
My every mistake. My complications
Seem so much more complicated
When paired with ensuing addiction.
I drink you quietly in the dark,
From one paradox to another
This is the shape of a loneliness
Built on materialism and absention.
–
Tonight gravity knows naught but repulsion.
–
I sense a Wordle in this poem or rather I believe their are some words in here that would go well in a Wordle. I didn’t feel much like writing today to be honest I had a practice National Prov in Swedish and the main theme was politics I am mentally exhausted.
mindlovemisery 