dust

The man upstairs drifts back into the cloying blur of woolen dark
to whisk down the crackling stairs

out of the tepid light’s dull radiation 
the hallway’s itchy carpet

tethers flesh to a moment of control
that could shift the paradigm of predator prey.

wake, 
and hope the empty noises from hidden rooms
are truly just machines.

 
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bugss

NY

YWP Alumni

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  • By bugss

    Bicycle

    We ride our bikes into the brush 
    flying effortlessly down winding thin roads
    endlessly searching and reaching for that next breath
    that next grace 
    to lift the weight of gravel inside our stomachs

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  • By bugss

    catharsis

    i am trapped in that broken state of consciousness
    between sleep and wake
    where the rest and rem comes from a deeper sort of aching need 
    fullfilled
    in the early hours of time

    branches shift against your window,

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  • By bugss

    apology

    i think it was your brother
    that told me
    how you nearly killed yourself

    but i spent a while 
    hidden in the knowledge
    of your pain
    as if i could have somehow known
    before he told me

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