I’ve gotten sick.
Well, you’ve gotten me sick,
in a way where I no longer care
about doing what I don’t
dare
It’s scary
how a slight immune deficiency
can so easily deter me
from the path of the righteous
homo sapiens.

But what does that even
mean?
I guess that I’m constantly
looking for ways to improve
me
but it’s not so self serving
I swear - hear me
out - it makes sense
in the context
of learning by doing
and teaching by showing
there is a way
that lets you feel a little better
and do a little more
all the time acknowledging that
You.
Will.
Die.
And that’s fantastic.

It seems like my choice

to put down the pen

but I can always 

remember when

red ink

flowed out of me

instead of tears streaming

I was a little more lost

then -

now geographically

scratching this itch

for wandering 

squandering

severing connections

that seem like they’ll

last forever

but never mind

you and me

speaking universally -

in color 

lines and shape

escape sometimes

on a train with no seating

express

to a place above the sea

I’m telling you

I can swear I’m on a beach

forever

can see the stitching 

in the universe

where it breaks apart

what you’re seeing -

really