isn’t that a bother,
when you hear
something another
did not say.
Both self-assured,
so who, if anyone,
is in the wrong?
i hear what i hear
and you say
what you say.
I heard you say something
you’ve said you’ve said
contrary to what I’ve heard.
did i mishear what
you’ve misspoken?
beside,
in front,
behind,
atop,
underneath,
a three sixty of
angles in distress.
pan,
zoom,
follow,
each frame
updating a future
past of which
no present awaits.
memory is a touchy subject
because it has a tendency
to elaborate.
facts lived are
more adamantly detailed
upon recollection,
but during such
reflections are mirrored
the ideals of misconception.
preconception tends the
grounds of deception.
these passing faces
leave impressions.
ghosts of memory
coloured by
imagination.
exaggerated being
live a past of an
ideated reality.
i saw you
and you looked
happy.
could i shame you?
no.
what i gave you
left you sour.
i didn’t know how
to sugar coat
lemonade.
just throw it away
and don’t think
about it.
out of sight
out of mind,
but the mind
still sees.
could-have-been
phantoms live
in possibility.
reality discredits
an imagination
disillusioned of
what could’ve be.
churning chance
in a vat of hopefulness,
likeliness speaks nil,
cooking a disingenuous delirium.
first off,
that sounds like shit.
there’s too many dicks around
for that to ring true.
there’s nothing sensible
about something so obtuse.
not an alpha,
nor feminine,
the seesaw of difference
balances those who cannot.
walking on an angle,
the sensible man
heads further
and further
away.
look there.
where?
over there.
over where?
i said, over there.
can you be more specific?
no.
why not?
i just wanted to make you look.
so, you’re an asshole?
yes…
full of shit.
