Burnt thoughtstream

The fates lay awake beside me,
i feel something break inside me
the snap collapses this toothpicked, rubric matrix
of good and honest intentions
conscious befores and authentic pretentions
I am naked to this reality
I am stained in shame at this juvenile confusion
because quite plainly
sometimes my best is not good enough

self thrust in the rush and the lush flush of:
white noise, blurred neon lights, speed

during times of constant change
remembrance goes the way of cigarette filters
slipped through the crevice of the window.

and funny how the upholstery is a more pertinent concern
then throwing styrofoam chemical burn onto the womb from whence we came?

It makes me wonder, am going somewhere or running away?

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