xavierblaq avatar

by

Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Sunday, Tuesday.
Every two days I feel it come back again.
A longing, a pining, a sort of sense of silly
that almost feels like dizziness.
Almost, but almost is not quite
actual. Reality is
I have no idea
what is going to
happen anymore with this little
place I call home. Every couple
of days I don't even care anymore what
happens, and I can't tell if that makes me
happy or not. Or not. Happy or not. Or not. Happy or not. Or not. Happy or not

Or not. Or not. Or

4 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Elizabeth O. Smith about 5 years ago

    Love this little piece! Reads like abstract poetry :)

  • avatar

    Brandon Sutton about 5 years ago

    Thanks! That is what I was going for.

  • avatar

    Horrorshow about 5 years ago

    I enjoy your poetry, Brandon; your language always has a nice flow and rhythm to it.

  • avatar

    Brandon Sutton about 5 years ago

    Thank you! I really appreciate the compliment!

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