human condition

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a hurricane of obsessions

at its center me

a headache of loneliness

an inexplicable nausea in my soul

hands never clean enough, incompetence and dust always coating them

tier lists of trauma 

only hindered by my indecisiveness

a sea of lessons to be learnt; moments that went not so swimmingly 


a nagging within my dreams, like leftovers haunting a fridge

emotions undealt with, return in the depth of night

the lamplight shivers, something falls

footsteps echo, not a spirit in sight


the same memory on loop,

one moonlit night, one breathless question

last words rehearsed, real life imitates song

a half-hug, unsatisfied


a lifetime of almosts

like a bowl of unpeeled tangerines

the zest in their peel

nothing but an eyesore

the citrus eye sting, 

bright color an undesirable reminder,

bygones not just bygones

even if we let them be.


an immunity to connection

in a wistful cabin in the woods

the creaks of its planks

conceal no secrets,

its windows an invitation to view

windows of glass but more so

windows in the gaps of wood,

patiently waiting to be entertained


on a conveyor belt of bad faith

with nobody to claim me

forevermore in a confusion of authenticity,

even in solitude no unity

living life through second-hand words 

and hand-me-down meanings,

personas disposable enough to wear out


the human condition

simple as eggs

fabric in time 

held up by shoulders,

the kindest body part 



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