I heard Rawlins say
I have the recipe
I don’t have the ingredients
Should one figure out replacements
Or wait for seasons to turn
Maybe develop patience
In the meantime,
Carve a personal space
Wind funneled
Water channeled
Plenteous to
One Way Familiarity
The unfamiliar
Always introduce herself to me
With the ease of a biker
Piercing holes in a tight traffic
Running thrice as fast than everybody else
Pissing all as it passes by
And that’s how she came
With that certainty on her face
Polar
I heard myself in her voice
Immediately I told her
Please don’t slowly become me
You know how
much I
hate myself
“Aren’t you supposedly a narcissist?”
But I’m a narcissist who doesn’t like mirrors
Hull
That brief moment
Both were sure
The victim
Eye the torturer
Too late to run
Too fast the blow
Having a Daughter
When I see pages blank
Words spout like random doodle
Triggered by a white space
Empty page
That yearns for contrast
Itchy ink
The last 15 seem blank
I would’ve
His Words Danced
To be a king in his kingdom
Confidence over his court
Point to a Jester
If he makes himself a fool
Talking to Strangers
Patterned after a deep dive
Now hits like shallow muddy waters
To talk to you how Chinaski
Speaks to me
With rhythm dissimilar to heartbeats
But with realized vibrance
As gasping for air
Desperate heavy breathing
No reply necessary
For Every Gained Inch
The artillery’s out for display
Passive and implied
To overpower what needs to be addressed
Even if it cannot be denied
The small pieces fall by the wayside
It’s a terrible time to realize
How little your
Headspace: Fondness
Never fully grasped
Frail, blind desire
Helpless gravitation
Starts a seedling, clasped
Bound under the wires
Nurture to fruition
And it’s the best flavor we’ll
When You Sleep on a Bed of Regrets
But I swore
At that moment
As all previous to it
Were similar
And easily foreseen
The future
Could as well be a clone
Of its past
But then
Tomorrow came
And threw everything away
Even the
danDAman 