I toil in the dreamtime like a night manager in a hotel without walls, catering to clientele – whose needs, so diverse, rattle the rows
Smoking Pit
Cigarette butts no longer linger concrete, but I swear the cloud of smoke lingers, the sweat of adolescent anxiety – the suffocating pressure to comply
Tired
so tired… the heaviness of slumber settles on me like a straight jacket – no point resisting… was it a poisoned apple that struck me
Dis-abled Self
A wounded creature, I circle the pack; A laggard seeking inroads, missing cues; A social wanna be without the smack – This fogged state a
Foundations
Rock solid, biding time, fixated on a future born of movement. Frozen – iced snapshots of possibility, immobilized by misperceptions Role-playing expectations carved from generations
Wholeness
(Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge is breath & unite.)
