"are you okay?"
"she's fine"
what is okay?
i don't think i am
okay.
it's not in the dictionary.
but people ask it so much.
"you okay?"
sometimes it's
"are you all right?"
i'm not all right
i'm not even
all wrong.
it's patchwork.
there's you and me
and then the us
and the ever-fragile
we.
is there a we?
where are you?
the words struggle to form
my entire being revolts.
don't, no, don't.
please, don't, never again.
never ever ever
again.
ignore it all, dammit.
"You're my friend."
in your sorry fucking face, world.
i'm alright.
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Comments
I really like this! And agree with it. If my damn computer works I'll be able to fave it.
--
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
READ IT. please. Most of the poetry I write can be traced back to SC, even if it isn't said that it's from the novel since Second Chances is...extremely personal.
--
Resident Flying Ocelot Clarinetist, Young Fogey, Thesaurus Thrower, Chainsaw Demigoddess, and Deity Ex Machina. But you knew THAT.
I am many things. All of them hypoallergenic.
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