Self-objectified endings

i objectified myself
the moment i
touched myself.
i don’t need your
assumption when
i’ve made mine.

There, would you look here

here                                  hey, over here.
whoa, you’re a bit far?
naw, not really. you can still read me.
i guess you’re right. why over           there?
i’m just trying something new to me.
i see. how’s it working out for yeah?
looks different, but it feels the same.

B l a n k s p a c e

blank
space
blank space blank blank.
blank, blank blank blank.
bla, space space,
nk spacespace.
no space
blankspace
space
blank.

Hot ears ring

my ears are burning.
hell, they’re getting
hotter. as i realize
the sensation more,
i notice a ringing.
damn it.
what is this ringing?
the more i focus on it,
the more it’s all i hear.
the ringing drowns the burn.
then i remember the burning.
the ringing subsides.
hell, they’re getting
hotter.

Bad touching the good

i try not to touch myself
but it seems like a reflex.
my head says no to
an action of yes.
i’m told it is bad,
but why does it feel
so good? they can’t say.
well, they can,
but if they were to say,
they would have no
reason to say otherwise.

Following a crooked line

head down to stabilize
all that moves
things are more easily
seen when static
follow insight of eyes
taking each step
in lead of vision
plant adjusts seen
tip toe, stomp, leap
what do you see?

Set your pace

care to slow down?
maybe just a bit
strides off pace
strain adjustments
keep in step or
step out of bounds
listen, its rhythm
focus the reverberation
settle your time.

Bent to see straight

she stood bent
but she saw me
we both crossed the road
our trajectories intersect
she gave her line
of which i paid five
we’ve met before
hopefully today
brings tomorrow

Self vibrate

vibrations reverbate
foreign notes
cultivating doubt
between space

My mind is an ashtray

looking down the
barrel of futility,
scurrying those
of achievement.
negation of being,
present complexity,
counters our ancestors.
i accept the debris
of that disposed.
treasure found amonsgt
the discarded.
gold shines upon the eyes
of those who see.
i walk blind,
generally,
but specific light,
illuminating what’s been missed.
this luster emanates a bias brilliance
my intellect cannot fathom.
i speak what i feel,
yet what i feel
does not always speak.