poem: self-awareness is possibly just narcissism

hey soul someone,
i fell out of your eyes. we disagree
on politics, religion; you are too
excited to see me. guess what
all my characters, soul-mates,
are still bitches: whiny
and not really depressed. it’s just
despair, i’m just
despair-ed. the internet
however beats on,
an eternal shared heart.
what do we have after
post-modernism? not much;
to human progress. and you
watched me walk
away, the salt-sugar clouds
the red wind,
the buildings in the snow—
somewhere in the aesthetic
i am there, i fall
and fall fast, five stories
rushing like wind and normality
up through my pelvis
the alarm clock smashing into my head
cement splatted with,
someone worse. maybe if you
went to bed— on time?
fuck off mum i’m
an adult.

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