Talking their airplanes into nose dives: Insomniac Pilots
who carry my lifeless body to rest.
Underneath this Maple tree- scribbling figures and backwards esses
into eardrums flooded with white noise to block

the screaming.

Parents in the darkrooms fumbling the audit log,
and I turn on Tom & Jerry w/ the volume @ 40.
Re-airing episodes like broken record players that can’t drown the
conversation; on loop, talking to my lawyer about the mess we made.

THINGS THEY TALK.

By Juno Nightingale // DJ Jelinek

The same garbage, over and over and over and over and over and over and
Making the same mistakes and promising a coming change that never
happens. Well I change; I GROW. And I talk to the closet at 3AM.
Asking if my environment is power or a crutch.

The kings of their mental don’t actively disclose their royalty.

You won’t like what you’ll find hidden in the closet:
dry erase markers next to subway sand-witches
that/who conjure mental illness.
Keeping the antidepressants hidden in the back.

These glasses are fake by the way.