1:25 AM on a dull Tuesday

Never, really ever, wanting to forget Oakland

Sky

sky so red.
between black trees,
negative space bled

Pre- Nothing/Post- It All

thinking about in my lungs, jittering
all the things that live
inside
its
regurgitated build up;
volcanic needs.
all the things i hate
in me,
my worries
about the sounds in my walls
behind corrugated strips of
hollow
im thinking about the wind
is picking up
brushing trash on pretty streets,
cans not heavy enough
to carry,
flow
thinking about old things
dusted,
broomed and broken,
old friends.
things ive done
to you
things i should
have said
things that made me punch walls
with fists
heavy and bare
and blue boned
thinking about all i would do
on a dark night
cause its feeds me
all the yellow
i need,
with street lights to see through
of baseball games i used to watch
root for what team, who cares,
i like to watch them batter batter.
thinking about the cold is coming,
hats on racks no one's buying
halloween's coming, skulls are in windows
screaming black ceramic
on sale
in a fancy gift shop
but my hands are stupid-
stiff and
rotten.
words for nothing.
no ones hearing,
what they are.
what's the point.
if nothing is what it was
when you first began liking
life