restless

here the brickwork is old, its mortar
sunken, depleted veins where
i stumble in my grownup heels.
i’m hesitant, afraid of becoming dead
like my mother; her ghost drowning daily
in self-loathing and cheap beer,
calling twice a week to
remind me to eat.
all i want
is to write, but
to write, i need to rip
out the nerve endings of hardened tongue
and fingertips which grope
blindly with validations
instead of undressing my soul.

One thought on “restless

Leave a Reply to zaphodfreek Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s