Backyard

the backyard
You move around wide space
like a caged animal,
smoke licking out of your
mouth to kiss the heavens,
six foot planks enclosing
this patch of grass. You walk
in circles and smile at
air,mumbling, reminded
of decades old ironies.
Which is the real life?

final drafty.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I feel like most people in this world are worried about number one. One being themselves. Is there any TRUE regard for the other, or is life simply a barter system where people have value only inasmuch as they can provide one what he/she wants or values? The more I begin to look at the actions of most it seems that there is nothing worse than self importance, and yet it is required to survive. I don't know what I believe. Ugh. One of those days.

Just want to know where the respect is. Respect for another's reality and importance...respect for one's individual mind. Always I see judgment and disdain and disregard, and lack of any restraint in terms of one one wants for himself. Take take take. Who cares? He'll do it too.

Pills

Five pills. Five pills and I'm what's left. Paint left from a brush in water. Floating for an instant. Shadows on the surface, then spinning and sinking, vibrant before gone.Gray grit mass on the bottom of the glass.
I briefly wonder if my life is vomit, a mess you can't hold back. I want it clean and gone. It's offensive even at the feet.
But that's over and my body is melting and I want to live here but I need more pills because it's already gone.