bitter panic

insomnia isn’t a creative phenomenon to be thrust upon

I used to write about stars and bars and sex and what’s next

tired eyes shift setting minds on hindsights

linger on anger over slow burn blindsides

this is the destined devolution they warned me would scorn me

one way ticket to sickness without a single witness

in my minds eye I was fossilized

hard with no regard for my blind date lightweight state

a freshman adolescent caressing fluorescence

knowing too slow the glow of real light

im stateless and straitlaced and raging and hazy and shaking

and now im aging

at 27

historically, a bad spot to crash land