eagerly waiting for a moment
to be blatantly missed
and torn apart preemptively
deemed utterly superfluous…

CREAKING door sound
under the curtain.
“for your imagination.”

though futile.

sitting still.
thoughtless thoroughly.

guess i should stand up and pray for rain
so i can think then.
or something…

waste muscles its way through me
spurting clouds through any aperture it finds.
turns out – there are a lot of them.

it’s quite annoying.

goose flesh ensues,
eyeballs rolling…