body shrinking with time.
Smelling the end of my fingers
is a custom I have.
Don't disturb me while
I am dreaming, it is impolite.
Sorry if I don't hear your loud cries,
I am way too busy waiting for this
body to die.
Madness is my escape
to the divine.
Guilty and uninspired I left it all
to chance.
Lumbering in darkness to hide
this heinous crime: to expose
the secrets of this
trembling mind.
Is there a need to brush my hair
if I not longer care?
Let the mirror lie.
If I AM here, who is there?
why deny the smell of
Coco Chanel?
Nietzsche said god is dead,
I swear it wasn’t me…
How can I kill someone that
doesn’t exist?
I better go , it is getting late,
what the future holds when
it open its gates? maybe a new
Starbucks with the flavor of the day.
Anjani
