Poetry| Reflection | Solitude

Alone after dark,
Newspapers float in the parks.
Smoke cigs to have a light,
Tape keeps the neurons tight.

Silence repeats after itself.

Laughter rips the peace in half,
Split tips examined in the bath.
Friendships dissected like a frog,
Regrets resurface in the bog.

I’m just here examining myself.

Listening to blues churning the mind into curd,
Got me feeling like a bird,
Or just a tit,
God I’ve made such a mess of it.

Perpetually drowning in a fluid sense of self.

. . . . .

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