there are certain things i can’t write about
at least not out in full
but i’ll walk around until i will
know i’ll be sinking
others will go drinking
or have party breath
popping happy pills
to reveal the things they can but can’t
i think at slants, big or small
we aren’t at all ourselves
we are far from the prettiest
so we choose and blame the things that make us the least prettiest
but destruction is a mere prerequisite
there’s no point
neither nor
no way
these are just the things we are