A victim, myself, of my own observation. We so…

A victim, myself, of my own observation.

We so often forget the reality of here.

When will we wake from our television comas that I’ve been so damaged by? When will I learn to put the torch to rest?

There’s no life out there, I see it now. It’s right here. There’s nothing more beautiful and nothing more disgusting. There is nothing more than here.

And I don’t want to be staring at you through the window when you’ve used up all your tears and all your sighs and all your dreams. The alternative’s quite charming when there’s been millions of suns already shared.

But this bulletproof window with the peek-a-boo blinds are all I have to contend with. The touch of your fingertips through the iron bars; so subtle. My thesaurus tells me it’s calefacient. I’ll stick with that one.

And this is all I can think of tonight.

Even though I’ve received a notice that if I’m late by even 5 minutes any day over the next 60 days, it will be my last day with them. I’m not exactly prepared for that and I won’t apologize for the “inconvenience” I’ve caused them by dealing with my twisted life and having to take days off, or showing up late because my stressed out mind ignored the three alarms that woke up the rest of the block. I will not apologize for those things. Though I’d gladly accept some sort of kickback for the job I do, which is undeniably better than my peers. Maybe some sort of justice. Maybe some sort of x-ray goggles to look through the thin layer of my faults to what should really matter anyway. Oh but that’s right….. the greedy fucks can only afford to have minimum wage workers doing minimum wage work. Anything more would be a pay cut for them.


Create until nothing is left to create.

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