Progression or depression, it depends on the portends. But never regression.

Around her neck Hangs an emerald line, Dotted with sun-facing flowers; Silky smooth, speaks her mind. This line brings this poet

From the day that we met your name has bounced around in my… increasing in volume it’s really loud now but i don’t mind

Yellow-green leaves lie still Upon the concrete ground. Cars are parked, People are sparse; It is the afternoon.

Betwixt imagination And anxious reality You exist; A phantom. I hear you

Is it too much to ask for, The self being contained Under the snow of your eyes Reaching out, never quite grasping The height of the situation.

Ah, my sincerest apologies. I have a tendency to drop dead In front of gorgeous women.

The wall’s broken down, The river’s run aground, The water’s sound Is nowhere to be found. The angst of it comes to call

I have that swipe keyboard on my phone where I draw a line between the letters to write the w… Sometimes, it mistakes the word

Yet I use it all the time. The weather? Check my phone. The time? Check my phone. Calendar? Check my phone. How many people died today? Check my phone. It’s so exhausting. Everything ha...

Smile at me you vixen, melt me and step your red stiletto in the puddle,

I can see you’re still bleeding. I would like to dress your wound, my wound. In my haste I now realize, I bleed too.

This headache, these carpenters in my bedroom, pound my respite with no quarter. Just now, I need, despite the con…