Pick Your Poison

shifting tide

the path continues its momentum in this
blank space, shifting without resistance.

i am full of empty soda cans ready to
be recycled, valuable only to the poor.

the word love clouds my vision with its
ambiguity of context, but I feel saturated.

surrounded and enclosed by my confusion
of wanting, I become the calm pilot and wait.

i know that I am achieving my goal while finding
its disworth, I'm not just a drug dealer afterall.

the moon looks so tender tonight, its light
mocks my moth-like attraction to the pulse.

i am a rootbound sativa, and the
soil's nutrients are wearing thin.