bad poetry

‘.nothing is irrelevant
you’re not irrelevant.’

‘inside small designated pockets
i keep the vestiges you leave behind’
(in sockets, in sockets, in sockets
…i’m sorry…                              …i was not meant to find…)

(you didn’t leave them for me
i know.)

‘laying on the floor,
i stumble on them,
just like that,
unapologetic sum
.it’s you, matt.’

(and i know you can take care of yourself,
i know.
and i know you live your pieces, utterly,
like you love your faces
and other things
i patently don’t understand.)

and,

‘even though nothing is real
and your vestiges aren’t meant to be in pockets
,in them lies my ability to howl and kneel
and, therefore, to love and feel.’

so,

‘.nothing is irrelevant
because you’re not irrelevant.’

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