Sometimes we talk because we have stories to tell

Sometimes just to drown out the stories we tell ourselves

Lately I've talked to see what others have to say

And along the way I've forgotten what stories I ever had

__________________________________________________

My head is hollow

I am unhappy

My brain is inebriated

I am content

There goes my life

In a three foot stent

In a (porcelain) room

With white walls

Near a family lobby

With unrelated persons

My head is nothing

I am finally free

__________________________________________________

He had to ask

“Are you sure?"

And so I knew

that he sensed something was wrong

She smiled sweetly

When I blew kisses

To the whole group

as I left the party not early but with the second wave

Somewhere walking home

I gave up on tinkering

And still didn't choose

to buy bread because it was far too early for the Kosher bakery

Laying in bed

Watching La Haine

I’m bastarding art

by dozing asleep with all this angst and nowhere to put my French vocabulary