➳ contents of the mind

snapshots of life

taken at irregular intervals.

evaporated teardrops

and emotions eroded by time.

a collage of puzzle pieces

and futile attempts to assemble them.

a hazy depiction of who i am

and who i will become.

epiphanies that only spark

bewilderment.

pages blank to the naked eye

that spell out what i feel inside.

questions that lurk

in the shadows of my mind.

metaphors, similes,

paradoxes. . . .

the twists and turns

of a road called life;

i maneuver with uncertainty

towards a goal unknown

and a fate unseen.

false leads,

dead ends,

and a mystery left

unsolved.

➳ the smoker

exorcist addicts

watch dark spirits rise from lit

cigarettes, entranced

➳ what is normal?

with no two the same

each human is different

does that make us strange?

we call others strange

if they are not the same as

most of the others

but if most others

are not the same, then why must

they call others strange?

if we are all strange

then strange is normalcy and

normalcy is strange

➳ when my eyes are closed

blinded by beauty,

riches, and fame, i see best

when my eyes are closed

➳ silver tongues are gold

nothing matters more

than the mating call of an

albino peacock

➳ as if he won’t remember

teach bravery to

your tongue; talk as though he who

listens speaks slurred words.

➳ misplaced luck

clover fields littered

with cockroaches–luck spent on

those born immortal

➳ combing for clovers

you can’t live life with

slumped shoulders and downcast eyes,

searching for good luck

Next Chapter: Gloaming