This Mess

i’m a mess – a ragged ragamuffin running roughshod riding white water rapids and rolling river rocks – muddied mind malaise riddled masked in mirth exuding merriment maimed and torn miserable – pale portly panicked poor – a man alone in pain abhorred – surrounded enclosed locked away tight – retreat from the sun turn…

The Things We Carry

your positivity is a ruse more lies to tell yourself in the chill of early morning and lonely nights dreading your $20 an hour job wearing a pasted-on smile beneath sad eyes darkening and puffy suffering with a grin – in constant competition with people who you never cross the mind of posting photos in…