phonebook anachronisms…


dremel out the rough edges,
make it easier to lean against;
get used to it after long enough.
truth is; spines don’t gain
strength through experience,
only minds & hearts
do that.

just after midnight,
safely stop worrying
about right-now pain n’
we can talk all night
about how bad tomorrow’s
gonna be.

finding some kind of safety
in the moments between
those now-pains burning
my lines &
comin’ when i
get out of bed in the morning,
always assuming i can find my way

you play the game
as dictation comes down;
friends far away
that should be in the next room;
bunch of new faces,
as of yet untold stories;
hair still growing longer
by the day.

nothing ends without
drifting scents of conditioner
coming from twisted hair
hiding my eyes from
the ceiling. when it ends
in that clean break
i can stop worrying
about what it’ll feel
to wake up with the light
of day.

dedicated to insomniacs everywhere. it’s not a great a great feeling to be fucked, but it’s a lovely idea to be fucked together.


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