459

a stupid thing to do with time
my hands
small of backs
virgin voyage starting to crack
so my plights
dwarfed by other cardinal sins
not committed by me but witnessed
static
in static
I can’t want or go hungry
but I’m hungry
and angry
when the music cuts out
when I spill on my shirt
what’s another night?
a stolen glance frozen
again
I don’t feel bad
like rotting fruit
at least it was sweet
when it was sweet