N° 32

When I’m in company
I have a habit of imagining
How they probably see me

It’s like taking a mental picture
Of myself
With the camera being the eyes
Of my counterpart

Does that one strand fall into my face
The way I know it looks best?
Is my laughter contagious?
Are my eyes sparkling?
Do I look pretty from their point of view?

Why the fuck don’t I concentrate
On my own fucking view

-self obsession vs. self destruction-

N° 8

You know when
You think of something you did
And the memory doesn’t even feel real?

I think
There’s two reasons for that
Either it was something so great you can’t wrap your mind around the fact that it really happened
When it happened
you closed your mind and weren’t really ‘there’

I am a closed mind