@ 3 AM

my hand ─ in this moment ─

is a reptilian-thing,

foreign.

holding a pen.

Seeking Altered States

I've been nursing a beer,

and longing to feel different,

than I am ─ indescribably other ─

knowing full well: drunk ain't what I'm after.

Contemplating the highs I've known,

and longing for a sympathetic ear,

or the simpatico warmth of breasts,

upon which my head could rest.

This song's too slow, it's making me itch ─

I don't if it was the haircut,

or the change in weather,

that landed me in this existential ditch.

Roles Played

[...] upon a time i've been,
a zero or the hero─

[...] upon who tells my tale,
a victim or the villain─

this story, even if honest,
is neither true, nor yet truest,
as perspective ain't prescriptive.