entregate poem #25

Most things bore me

only the clouds regale me.

I stay awake most nights,

and ask the questions most people ask,

when they stay awake most nights.

How do we survive?

How do we stay awake and snore?

A coma in our throats.

How do artists endure a marriage in Los Angeles?

Is there a survival guide?

What is love?

What is you?

There are certain foods, I cannot eat anymore.

I have upgraded, from the moth, to the flame.

I owe people their karma.

If afraid,

 be it only,

if justified.

No more being defined by identities, nobody knows me like my bowels know me.

You see brown skin,

I see,

a white canvas.

Don’t fill the void, it’s inescapable.

Be authentic.

Be authentic

Be authentic.

Asè.

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