(started several hours ago)

black and silver
drip hiss sizzle
slice hush drip
these are eveinings
spent with coffee
and lines

(but all.on.paper and not.on.me.)
I'm fine, I really am. It would seem. This is me, doing my thing. Deadlines, essays, minor things. Feeling vacant and empty so let's all raise hell and force out these emotions that seem to be missing.

Just so much easier to loosen the chain on the demon that has devoured my nights than call up the angel who has sung me to sleep.

Poke poke poke you awake you alive? Finger to my throat tells me yes, pulse is moving. Fingers tracing paths over black squares tell me yes, neurons are firing.

several hours later before post-and-publish. I don't want to keep writing in here. I have to write on donuts!