Not Having It by Colin Nickle

Happy, not

Mobile, barely

How many

can jump ship

to pull back

to the self of selves

condemnation needs relief

Depression, energy

Time slows, I hear the clock

Mourning unavoidable

The cement between bricks won’t dry

Mould must be dealt with

An unbalanced, unfinished open renovation

On top, why is pain necessary?

Feels flowing a darker blood red.

Watching the quiet phone

So how can it possibly be nice outside?

Seeping through thick closed blinds

Hurt prevails

But the sun won’t stop

A dichotomy of influences

Where is the picture

or perhaps do I want to see

Overwhelming lifting

Still curious, how will it end.

A tunnel, so hollow—where does it lead

My perspective is skewed

a dank bottom, so cold

I must save myself

But it does not mean much

Why is fight so limp

Where, when, what and who

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