day 43

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TITLE "strangers settling into broken homes

together"

there is nothing left to kiss you with

a mouth

and a few broken teeth

yellowed and vintage from all the old school music we recite

smoking a few filtered cigarettes

I am sitting in the back of my car

throwing ash through windows and winds

I remember that ghosts still walk by

I can't see anything

just remember

and respect

and pray that I will save a life before I take mine

 One day

 it won't be so difficult to swallow

 with strep throat coated stomachs

 

 the truth is just like that

 it feels like dancing with your mouth open

 no words or melodies

 just a harmony

 two feet between bodies

 keeping asses and breasts to one self

 and hands to hands 

 touching palms like we all want to tell each other's futures

I am not a fortune teller

cannot remember the last time I knew what I wanted for myself

I do not see what you want me to feel

some days feel heavier than others

i just want to run some days

not holding hands with anyone

just in my pockets, maybe

maybe trying to get a grasp on the air beneath my wings

flying

dreaming of the mist and the fog

getting lost in it

just for an excuse to stay home

i have wasted a part of my youth

being so confused

but i can't help myself

if I honestly don't know the answers I need

nothingness

beautiful nonetheless