sensitive

i grew up listening to the indigo girls

i believe that made me sensitive

i wore a slayer shirt to a tori amos

concert

that got a few weird looks

especially when i knew all the lyrics

always the odd one

the one standing out in the crowd

but i never craved that spotlight

never wanted to be famous or hell,

even rich

just wanted my own little slice

of reality

a place where i could paint naked

while listening to classical music

and the cops would understand

that of course, he has a little pot

in him

of course, there’s a loaded shotgun

in the corner

of course, a few empty bottles on

the floor, holes in the carpet

all the bent spoons are hidden

——————————————————————————-

no longer fit to breathe

a glass of vodka and

two muscle relaxers

must be a thursday

love, that fleeting

myth

lost in air that is no

longer fit to breathe

cursed under a cherry

moon by the most

beautiful woman that

bothered to take your

soul

you never learned

that you don’t have

to suffer to find joy

that you can work

harder and smarter

at the same time

she told me to meet

her on the other side

of the moon

try to decipher that

code when we no

longer have space

alone, listless

wasting away in

pain

waiting for the demons

or the ragged angels

to say hello

at least someone is

still buying books

——————————————————-

midnight

a crisis of confidence

when you shouldn’t

have any

play with your words

like the children play

with their food

eventually, we all go

hungry

dancing at midnight

as the world slips

off its axis

and we all could

see this coming

elect the crazy

and expect

something

else

this is what happens

when no lessons

are ever learned

rinse and repeat

hope is insanity

with a smile

a hill to go

die on

—————————————————————

a fresh kill

loneliness greets you

like a cat bringing in

a fresh kill

it wants the fucking

treats

but we’ve entered

the stage of life

where no fucks

are given

the glue of society

is off polishing the

participation prize

somewhere in the

distance nero is

playing the violin

you smile when

you remember

mozart died

poor

hazy with a dash

of sunshine today

eventually, rain

in the evening

misery to sleep

with

how did that cat

kill the rabbit

twice its size

sweet dreams

embrace the pain

like it was meant

to be

————————————————————–

tied your innocence into a knot

she had a sense of grace

a certain elegance in the

way she would saunter

over to you at three in

the morning

slightly drunk and

always horny

she made you a man

long before you were

ready to become one

tied your innocence

into a knot

and all you could

ever think was what

else could that tongue

do

eventually, even love

moves on

finds a better soul

something more than

it could ever be

memories only last as

long as you allow them

time settles all these

feuds in the mind

ceases to exist on

a spring morning

many years too soon

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at The Beatnik Cowboy, Yellow Mama, The Rye Whiskey Review, Night Owl Narrative and Disturb the Universe Magazine. His latest book, to live your dreams, is available at Amazon.com. you can find it by going here: https://a.co/d/0aS2cXSX