Infinite Happy Endings

Back in the far reaches pretended to be extinguished,

there’s an itch notched in the back of the cranium.

Shake at the thought when the pinch is close,

bouncing to and fro between closed eardrums.

Isolate the aspect and dissect the process.

Blanket over kitchen items with cherry-colored candies;

Sour as they slide, no sweetness in the mind.

Choke an apple a day; no more no less

to smile the treatment away.

Watching the worth of a waistline increase,

but the plague of fatigue steps in tow.


Stuck in a tailspin described as an allergy.

It will pass and no trace will remain,

much like the remnants of wreckage cascading from a crash.

Tendrils of the rift swallow to irrelevance.

Hold no clothing nor possessions nor fellow hands nor brethren.

Kept in nadirs never seen and never visible,

there’s never a smile that’d remain in a torn breast pocket.


A leaking heart wears itself too blindly

and pins dust on its veins to try to clog the cuts,

binding discard to discord for makeshift warmth.


Back in the far reaches laid bare for personal doubt,

there’s an itch notched in the back of the cranium.

Blanking out on another nostalgic drug,

swearing names out that have become dead to mine.

Wrap up the torture in cherry colored bandage,

shine bright to the dark, shut the courage off at dawn,

call the lingering instance of light a process.

Swing the head back and load up the magazine.

Cock the loaded trigger and spout out singsong.


The taste of each phrase sleeps sour on the tongue,

dripping ill optimism to splatter over pessimism.

At the first sound from the morning alarm,

dress for success to utter nothing new again.

Dripping ill optimism to splatter over pessimism.

Infinite happy endings all concluding to nil.

Caught in the tedium and subsequent delirium between closed eardrums.

Slide it back and sense the bitter bite.

No coat of armor blocks an attack from inside.

( ❤ Mitch)

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