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December 11, 2025

2:16 pm 

 

There is some hardship

Sitting in the silence of a blank stare

By the yolk-ey gaze of the one you love

 

I curse the morning sun as I drive away

Piercing my blue iris on each side

Of a stroke face that lacks symmetry

 

Summer never really ends around here

My ears beg for the nothing-sound of snow

From clouds that don’t acknowledge you back

 

My stomach churns from something psychosomatic

While my fingers sign the sign for hurt

Then my hands fall apart like water

 

Hardship is pain is hunger pangs

By a hate that doesn’t acknowledge you

But at least your love likes you back

 

Somewhat, some how

I never tended to wonder

To tend to my garden of nonexistence

 

An illness that is proverbial

The whites roll back to their original metaphor

I assimilate back to my original simile

 

Even rest itself is too tired to nap

Thirst itself is too tired to drink

And now hardship hungers no more