la vague à l’âme




I have 5 bottles lining the walls of my heart


Their names are mixtures of contronyms

dredges of adulation, malice

just a sliver of delirium


I’d like to boast that they’re all for decoration –

just like my half witted remarks

my freckles that connect like those

constellations you so often observe


So highly speak of


Yes, I’d like to say it’s all an elaboration

– just like this smile –

a face to hide the one that you meet


Yet we all play hand in hand with each other


Those same hands that

carved memories

into every brain

they were able to latch onto


It’s a fickle game of

Russian roulette, with me and my bottles,

considering none of us really ever wins


I never win at anything


Anything at all


What a funny little game, isn’t it?






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