I’m Losing

Folded, twisted and coiled.
Convoluted in its truest form.
What pressed moments of cures and imaginings. Lace and stockings, Wind and rain…
Unclear thoughts, falling in a dream.
I am an observer, confused and pointed in my direction.
Starving… Near death of heat, pain, and exhaustion.
The window into exaggeration and bullshit words, like “window”, makes me laugh…
Losing my thoughts, my skills, and mind.
Senseless words, why do I torture myself?
The pen… The pen… THE PEN…
over and over… FUCK, will you stop already!?!
I stole an inhale of nicotine into my battered lungs.
It was sweet heaven…
Thoughts of useless moments…
So useless now…
The pen… The pen…
It drives me MAD…
POUND, POUND…
I can’t take it…
I’m losing…

T.L Stafford
6-25-2018

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