Unspoken Tangents

Unspoken Tangents

By: Tyler Ross


Claustrophobic, I’m sick

waiting for your walls to sit

Still, a state of mind

I can’t come to grip

Your intentions

Skewed

I feel as if my heart could rip

out of my chest

I guessed wrong again

What’s wrong with me?

I can’t remember a time

when you told me things would be

just fine

I’ve binged

Cynical and walking down these pathogens

closely shoveled behind my selfish grins

A cancer bound like a bomb

waiting to explode

and expose

a self-made injection

from a historical infection

pinned to your perfection

Internal brain splatter

spills in a hundred directions