short.

these eyes are angry today
shrouded with a clump of late night thoughts
and consequences that grab at her gut
and forces her to scoff in disbelief.

she sits awkwardly,
a foot half in a shoe, the other crossed;
trying to balance her tested spine
so it doesn’t bend like
habits and promises and words that mean nothing.

this is a dying era for some,
the sun is out of phase,
everything in sight is refracted,
like friendship and honesty,
the loose bead in the machine,
spinning out of control in a place out of its own.

what is choice?
convenience.
there are no coincidences,
and my judge of character has always been true
in the long run.

these eyes are angry today,
and they see everything.
this skin is angry today,
and it feels everything.