Micro Poetry

Scraping/ nails against brick/ thought against thought/ smelling my dreams/ mold and rot

Tunneling into darkness/ echoes of my sin/ will you be my light in the end?

I/rush into/you//as if/time/were chasing/me

The bags under your eyes weigh heavy from your lies

Humming softly/ swaying slightly/ rooted always

Flailing/ the sun drop falls/ dazzling/ in its death

Each morning I look for you in the sunrise

The hype ends/ There's only me/ empty

Alone. Breathing what should be. Exhaling what's not.

Words fall from these lips. Jump in your ear. Fall out the other.

The moment my soul can fit into a box, be described with words or painted. I am no longer.

This soul~too restless to stay~too chained down to go~this soul~is dying

Yes/ we must climb the stairs/ How else/ do you plan do go higher?

Progress is/ waking up/ every morning/ realizing/ I can't go back

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