consumed in color
consuming motivation
following fiery inhales with
carbonated antidote
last sip and
last breath
before the next

if you see him
in the woods behind that house or the
lake that I spent
hours staring over
maybe the log where he
took mushrooms in
where I sat in
the rain the wind the cold

if you see him
if you see me
tell him that it’s not always
I know it’s never always


I am
a getaway driver
chasing distractions
from a singular truth
tangled in strategic pleasantry
in absurd conflict
in lies

I haven’t looked back
in what feels like years
but I can still hear them coming
echoes in a small room