i step up
each stair
with precision
the odour of the vehicle's
interior envelopes my body
smell of sweat
smell of pb&j
smell of desperation
i feel as if i stare each person
in the eye for at least a second
as i walk down the narrow path
i set my bag down
and then
i sit
i sometimes feel my possessions
are worth more than i am
so i treat them with more care
than my own body
oh chemistry notebook
i do not hate your crooked spiral
your ripped page
your bent edge
for you are only a book
you can't fix yourself
i should be able
to fix
myself
shouldn't i?
semi truck passes
i am left in darkness
i become dizzy
not sure why
bus driver man
drive me through city streets
let me dance in the aisle
i want to be reckless
YOU ARE READING
flecks of charisma
Poetry(old bad poetry don't read pls ahhh) flecks of charisma is a quintessential guide to not knowing how you're feeling, not knowing how to deal with it, but knowing how to adjust your life around it. some days are tough and some days can elongate into...
