a haiku of the unspoken.

No. 17
the real sickness here

has grown for 25 years:

fibrous reticence

"parents just don't understand"

No. 6

sickly sweet nicknames
no interiority
i'll always be twelve

before you ask: yes, dinner with my dad was as awkward as you could imagine it to be. and then some. it also ended rather abruptly. that's all i'll say about that for now. first, i have to go see a man about a horse*. 

*(translation key: man = cabinet. horse = glass of scotch)