I saw my life flash before my eyes just before I died I watched my Snapchat story and began to cry I categorize the ticks and tocks by slices of their range my words are bullets bleeding from my reflexive rage I'm constrained quite artfully by masks of here and now and this part I play for thee is my narcist nest of sounds knitted conversations form the blanket of a fort that's propped up by the kitchen chairs I've said it all before the clock says it's 3am as the shadows lick my sores the piercing salty pain restores the conscious I ignore I close my eyes and visualize an orb of condensed satisfaction it's full of contentment with my art a Thai iced tea and a companion.

















