This is that.

The story of my life
is beyond my scope.

(Sorry.)

Most astronauts are transparent.
Teasing spirits are.
Lost in space.

The fuzzy foot
is what I put *all* my trust in.
The way their hand felt
was…scratchy at first.
“Redemption is crunchy.”

Good mystery is
a failure,
in the way a car won’t start
In winter.

Giving a total stranger your number
is unbelievably smug;
Your feathers are not going to help
Anything.

Last week’s leftovers are questionable at best,
as far as quality of experiences go.
The thing is–
A tiring way to spend my afternoon:

“The way we solved our issue
was QUEEN OF EVERYTHING!!!”
“Tomorrow’s meeting WiLL BE
the end of Patriarchy!!!!”
“A questionable font
IS Always something I wish for!!!!”
“The pain in my gut
IS NOT your problem, mom,
So get off my back already!!!!!”

The future of this situation
is full of shit.
Hypocrites are made of magic…
Racist cartoons
are not a good example of empathy.
The rate at which we decay
is in my dreams.

The stillness of an autumn afternoon
is going to work out
if you reeeally try.
Karma is probably going to be okay.
Sooner
rather than later.
The other is a peaceful moment.
Floating in the ocean
is just the way it is.

Don’t cry.

The way you cry is
probably outdated by now.

One response to “This is that.

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