stratosphere

i. i don’t know how to not write poems / like they’re stories / and i don’t know how to stop seeing the world from a first person point of view / cause i have been drifting for so long / charting up pathways and possibilities, and now i think it’s time to figure out what the hell i’m gonna do / when i can’t feel the gravity in my stomach / or snap out of a daze before midafternoon / i don’t know how to write poems unless i’m exhausted / the words slipping from my mouth like a death rattle / a trickle in a drought / a long walk home / cause i’ve been drifting for long / and they cheered me on, told me anything was possible / and then they sat me down / and told me vague ideas can’t make money / and they were right, of course / their love dripping down my throat like honey

ii. i let my muscles get sore / bones grow brittle like they’re breaking / i sit alone with my thoughts / but only if i’m watching tv / i look out at the skyline, and wish it could be me / let the rain come down and wash away the city / i don’t remember my dreams / or think for too long about how the world used to be / hold my breath, and bathe in secondhand smoke / cast myself in stainless steel, and plastic / hold myself kind, and slow / cast-iron fingers cold to the touch / i wash the dishes ’til they’re try / and i turn on the blender ’til it’s hollow / i let the drone of it all consume me / i don’t take off my headphones for anybody

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