Exhaust, stings in the morning

when I’ve run dry of distractions

acidic

reflexes

Smoke screen of childish laughs

and a heartbreaking simplicity

don’t coddle my

corrosive

love

Dreams and rides

and eyes and skin

and smelting and gooey

and rough and awkward

Be. Yourself.

and combusted, and stalled, and empty

check engine

Light, is on.

Wake up