1734.

You keep coating me
in your lies and wondering
why I keep drowning.

1733.

Stars hand out wishes
under the same hope that hangs
the moon by a leash.

1732.

The sky is a lure
that captures vision and holds
dreams hostage at night.

1731.

It's a wonder that
any of us survive each
year. Hatred abounds.

1730.

Tempers escalate
alongside those gauges in
a joint turn, horror.

1729.

This unrelenting
heat the fodder of so much
rage and destruction.

1728.

His heart sometimes feels
like a black hole always set
to steady hunger.

1727.

A miasma of
negative confluence that
just wears and then drowns.

1726.

This life has to have
some kind of restart, maybe
just blind erasure.

1725.

Your love treads softly
but still scars for all of its
worn expectation.

1724.

Even anchors grow
weary as rust pries at their
exoskeleton.

1723.

All these hearts just worn
down to tissue. A constant
cycle of tearing.

1722.

The ego only
sees itself in every
view. So myopic.

1721.

Smoke and mirrors as
even new players wear the
same heart underneath.