Ask about my confusion
Or the new collared shirts I’ve been wearing
Is that you in that story or on that stage?
Is this all you aspire to?
The sounds resounds within the walls
Starting by bounds, ending by falls
Erasing with haste these wasteful resolves
Like a left hand on a chalkboard
Prose transformed to smudge
Diffused, sprayed, watered down
Electric sprinklers from a ceiling
Peeling and flaking off-white wallpaper
Ripped to shreds like confetti
Decorating the floor
With azure and crimson soda cans
Some empty
Some half-full
Others, half-empty
Dreams like mind-bugs
But no raid to be sprayed
Frayed, splayed, split like an atom
It’s a losing battle
And I’m tired of fighting