A Series of Haiku for the Sake of Brevity and Mild Confession

I’m not in a coma
A virulent neuron simply fired
Now I can’t stop staring

I know what they are
But I still imagine them floating overhead
with phosphorus fangs

My hand rhythmically taps
While honesty flickers violently
I cough then it’s gone

The moth can’t stop
Banging against reflective glass
I left the light on

I play some David Bowie
Because art is vital to living
And I’m afraid of silence

Every moment is gone
Before we realize it’s even here
Like this one, for example

I struggle to synthesize
An appropriate method of coping
I settle for breathing

I dance with grief
Like a middle school date in a gym
In between songs

Finding peace in my car
I am harmonizing with the radio
But I don’t know the song

Too raw to be art
I write a calcified confession
Still too raw to be art