[ Faltering, flickering, ]

Faltering, flickering,
the *December wind on a cold *Friday.
*Sun drifting to meet the horizon,
waiting patiently
for the shine of *Venus.

A *raven descending,
swept aside by a strong *westerly wind,
collapsed upon a *lawn chair
crying out for *water.

Salvaging faith in the sight of an old *oak,
staring down at the *roses that wait,
whimpering as the *hail beats down
to the sound of a *beating drum.

*Somber insanity, like
*purple tinted bruises
on a *zuccini, waiting to be eaten.
Passed over for *ice cream instead.

A *tiny car zooms past,
and I hate myself for being so *unfaithful
tired of living my life as though
it was directed by *Tim Burton
or written by *Poe.

I didn't ask for *citrus drinks,
or for the *river to run dry.
Swear sometimes I feel as though,
I'm the *Tweety to your Sylvester.

I'm just the *hexagon to your problem,
a complication you didn't need,
not the *silk sheets you asked for
to help you sleep at night.

Tasting so *bitter,
I used to be so *compassionate
yet you killed that
with your *knives of jealousy.

My *lungs have began to go,
and baby, I know your *perplexed,
but it's time for you to know.
I'm just that *different.

So count down from *five,
and then I'll disappear
your favorite worst nightmare
staring *John Lennon.