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  • Writer's pictureKyx

tire tracks

tears like a jeep on the road

carrying 2-tonne loads

i’m on the verge, so close

to letting go, just explode


red eyed, is it an infection?

no, it’s plain exhaustion

mixed with funky emotion

anxiety and a wee depression


tire tracks down my cheeks

too hard i hit the peak,

crashed the car, i see the streaks

from who i hurt, the blood reeks


i’m so tired, but that tracks

new home, friends and facts

i want my old self back

need to slow down, relax

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alcohol on the wound

Cut you by mistake But I let it fester And for our sake I should have known better I shouldn’t do more But it’d be unfair to you So I poured Some alcohol on the wound It stings and it hurts And I see

baby cheeks

dimples in my hand, the grip on my mother so strong but now my fingers have lengthened and i keep telling her, “so long!” fat on my arms is gone, but i still haven’t lost weight the time has slipped a

warm body

to you: i see your eyes, black and sparkling i think you’re nice you’re cute, with two dimples, laugh like a little girl, long neck but not a giraffe you’re smart, but you’re kinda weird, i guess diff

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