hollow pollen
watch their lips move—
curling momentarily at random
instances, with flawless usage of
the tongue: no bubbling in their
mouths, tangential nonsense
tumbling out their mouths.
don’t you wish sometimes
for the haze of pointless static
to envelop and hide you away?
melancholy goodbyes the residue
of performative social norms, the
leftover juice of it tainting tongues.
careful— they run if you
overshare,
dispersing like you never existed—
remnants of toxins
blotches on the ground in their wake.
please don’t
expect me to be enthusiastic
about asking how you are, because
i really don’t want to know.
not anymore.
please don’t
give me that look
or that awkward smile
if you don’t want to
listen to my heart
speaking.
i’ll lock myself away
in my sensory escape
if you want to know a
version of me that
doesn’t exist.
zealous rune