The smoke dissipates.
Clarity within discord.
At last, I am free.
No. 166
You kissed my bruised knees.
Traced circles around my scars.
A fractured plaything.
No. 165
My brittle bones ache
from the endless labour of
emulating life.
No. 164
I am a slave
to this violent disposition
of perpetual doubt.
No. 163
Swollen, sunken eyes.
Heavy with the day’s burden.
Empty coffee mug.
No. 162
It has been a year
since I heard her morning song.
Instead, I’m mourning.
No. 161
My mind is empty
like a barren wasteland
of misplaced syllables.
No. 160
I’ve been in the dark.
The shadow slowly grew, then
devoured me whole.
No 159
Distorted sine waves.
I speak only one language:
incoherence.
No. 158
I am in a glitch.
Time no longer exists.
Memories, a blur.