- young (and understandably dumb) -

Waking up after 10,

or sometimes noon, I

contemplate a lifetime filled with lust…

and not each imaginable consequence.

What a frigid and lonesome house I am,

150-something lbs. of glass and grey matter.

Heading to the kitchen,

some ungodly nourishment is calling.

What is the poison of choice in this hour?

No importance… there are sexier reapers headed this way.

As I sit down to do these words justice,

I ask a new million dollar question:

Will I maintain the passion today,

or will “passion” get in the way?

Silly sir… the answer is fixed.

D.J. Whisenant

- how did one become so numb? -

Gave it up too easily?

Yes, I sure did.

I saw the reports,

heard the commentary,

read the tweets…

and now?

My heart is barely a thump,

my soul is barely a whisper,

and my mind is just not worth discussing.

Perhaps it would be of some service to act…

scream,

question,

fight,

demand,

slay,

LOVE…

perhaps it would be just

another hopeless romance.

Quitting is a behavior I’m not proud of,

even under the most respectable circumstances.

Numbness, however, has come to control.

When outrage should at least be front and center,

slumber is all I request.

D.J. Whisenant

- hello killer… -

 I

bit the bullet before you

even pulled the trigger, and I

still won’t learn my lesson in this

afterlife.

Shame on me, yes indeed,

a hapless chap who’s cursed times three -

guess you’ve always had control

of that nifty knife.

How can I deny defeat when

you waved my white flag for me?

Did I even fight and seek when

you gave every kind of fair warning? As I try to 

hang on strong, the pain lasts

much too long, so

hello once again killer….

hello and goodbye.

D.J. Whisenant