10.31.2015 9:38am

through all the constant grief
and the brooding walks bypassing the alleyways
on the way to work
i envisioned souls not crying down the bustling main streets
and the security of the soothing breeze
prickling skin on their arms through the knit sweater they wore
to avoid the shaky winds brought on by the night

and between the impromptu bus trips across the state
and the subtle romance caught between passenger seats
of separate cars while at a stop sign
and the dark mysterious timing surrounding them,
the perseverance topples down
thus being forced back into the dark of the street
gawked at
rancid inside
mediocre, and all

inferior
passable for living

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Forgive me .1

alas,
I have forgotten how incapable I can be

from time to time
to go place to place
with lovers and strangers
and everything in between

from preventing any problems or frustrations

from building up
or simply occurring
   (and I’m sorry that they do
   I have no power anymore)

and therefore, my inconsistencies are endless

Monday

My favoeite shirt was dirty this morning
It was a Monday

Forgot lunch at home
I hope the dogs didn’t get to it

My appetite is faint
Why did I order this

I’m just going to drink coffee instead
Anyway.

I got stood up today
It was a Monday afternoon

It was our second date
I hope I didn’t do anything wrong

My toes are crushed in these shoes
They’ll be scabbard tomorrow

Walking a mile and a half to the train
I’m ready to call it a night

I’m laying in bed tonight
It’s a Monday night

a letter to the unfulfilled 23 year old

I would stay up all night to watch the stars
In their glory, in their prime
I’m sure I have in a past life

I want to sit outside and not be able to bear the cold
I’ve always been sensitive to a breeze
Especially during the fall

Tomorrow is yet another day of life
Maybe I’ll quit my desk job and explore off my last paycheck

The mundane Thursday mornings of the week bring no simplicity
Still two full days until I can sleep in without the fear of not hearing alarms

And the click clack click clack of heels on the hardwood floor bring a cold sentiment to my core

But it is not satisfying
No, it is not the type of cold
I would want to be