Can we sleep in the nude today?
Please.
I feel hot today, extensively.
Mind is distraught today, exhaustively.
When was I home last?
Of the clock, time lost its fealty.
The emperor besieges our heads, down.
Lost my touch with reality.
Maybe if our chests were glued together.
Maybe our collars just hung around.
There's a storm raging, screaming fire.
Everything is right there.
Flying amok like a useless flyer.
Too much to hold it together.
Maybe if my hands were around you.
And yours locking me inside.
Too many skills to hone.
Living in the clouds these days.
Too beaten up, tired and, alone.
No rest for the weary these ways.
Maybe if I could rest my head on your chest.
Maybe sloth is not a sin today.
Heat buildup in the nether regions?
That's not an irritation.
Sometimes it feels good to be the inspiration.
Of the sin of eternal damnation but.
Maybe if you could read my eyes.
Maybe if we could stay right here.
Can we please sleep in the nude today?
It is my coffin, of course.
YOU ARE READING
The Good place
PuisiThis is a collection of all the poems I've written about everything I'm curious about and more. Literal pitstop is the pen name I write under on WordPress and Instagram.
