At a Glance.

My brain is a bit reflexive,
a contusion of popular cultures and drama trends.
Trying to push your brain outside your head;
vortex of nothing but lead.
Life is a game with the devil, and the angel’s trashed.
So let me rehash the painful past for a moment.
I’m not trying to make an atonement,
my thoughts are constellations,
The migrations of nations.
Before I get caught in the real world
A matrix of solid playground
and alone in the dark,
I’ll slide right down to the garden of thoughts.
It’s like Easter eggs covered in spots.
When my head aches
I think about all the times
I’ve let my prose turn in to rhymes.
I wish I could channel sublime
feeling of love,
This ending seems kind of abrupt!

Photo by

Zulaikah Anderson.