Content on being discontent.
Patiently I want.
Walking backwards.
Remembering
A mosquito flies by me.
Happily
Buzz, buzz.
Bloodsucker! I think to myself.
Another day passes.
Thoughts now transparent, taped to my soul.
Voices in my head tired.
Sleeping.
A stranger staring into space, caught in his own...
nightmare.
His discontent.
Perched on a nearby tree…naked.
They watch.
Smelling nothing.
Smelling fear.
Smelling nothing.
The smell of her.
Walking backwards with the idea to turn back
the clock.
Maybe Not.
Blindfolded…I write until my heart’s discontent.
(Stop)