A Series of Haiku for the Sake of Brevity and Mild Confession

I’m not in a coma

A virulent neuron simply fired

Now I can’t stop staring

 

I know what they are

But I still imagine them floating overhead

with phosphorus fangs

 

My hand rhythmically taps

While honesty flickers violently

I cough then it’s gone

 

The moth can’t stop

Banging against reflective glass

I left the light on

 

I play some David Bowie

Because art is vital to living

And I’m afraid of silence

 

Every moment is gone

Before we realize it’s even here

Like this one, for example

 

I struggle to synthesize

An appropriate method of coping

I settle for breathing

 

I dance with grief

Like a middle school date in a gym

In between songs

 

Finding peace in my car

I am harmonizing with the radio

But I don’t know the song

 

Too raw to be art

I write a calcified confession

Still too raw to be art