Maybe it has always been some sort of internal humor,
Churning quietly in your skull.
A fictional stage surrounded by a fictional audience.
With you beaming in the spotlight.
Dashing attire,
Microphone in hand,
And your thoughts echoing the perfect scenario.
The perfect comeback.
The perfect punchline.
Always on point.
Always.
Without fail.
Every.
Single.
Time.
Well,
Are they cheering?
Are they laughing?
I hope they are.
Because I do not see the humor.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Thoughts
PoetryA collection of mostly free verse poems and short stories. Sometimes it is nice to simply clear your head. *Trigger warnings: descriptions of disturbing themes such as: body horror, death, interactions with the uncanny, topics in biology, and suici...
