Stickers are all that’s left

and they aren’t even real.

I have turned inside out.

Bits of me are all around me

It’s an existential maze every day.

But always my thoughts return to you.


Excremental /shitstorm /FUBAR

Is this the life for me?

Everyone watching me self-destructing (again)

while I am in a haze writing the journal of a nobody.

Each day brings a false dawn unless I take action

I may as well stay in bed, and become one with the birds.

Who flitter and flutter by. Life is a butterfly.

Watch me fly? Catch me. I’m falling.

Is anyone listening to catch my fall (again)

Inside out and outside in

soundwaves bouncing off the wall

images that haunt me thrill me take me there

No more chances (again) No more chances (again)

Are you in the DIN? The DIN makes you small (more)

There are children waiting in the wings

There is dinner waiting on the table

There is a turkey in the oven

I’ll have mashed potato, please.

I’ll bring you to your knees.

While you pray (while you pray)

I’ll be out there crashing down the walls

weaving baskets made of stars. (stars)

weaving baskets made of stars.


Did you detect and echo? KWIM?


Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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