random impulse free write poetry

these four walls

a small part of my whole

I've abandoned it all

and I'm a wandering soul

my plastic home

curated from the nothing I own

nothing reflects me here

and I feel so alone

blue skies seem too bright

the grass seems to green

I lie awake at night

hoping it's all just a dream

I paint a smile and perform an act

reading from a script

nothing's going to be real

so neither am I