Picture

Picture this:
a picture of me,
picturing myself
as a
flying monkey,
or a
dancing nancy,
or something else
imaginary
like that.
Picture
a picture
of a happy
me
– a drunk me –
from some time
a couple of
years ago.
Or better yet,
see it
for yourself,
because even
a poet knows
that words
are shit
to the real
pic.

… and see more pictures on my Instagram account, if you want:

@lourasmuswriter

Ceiling

I like to
sit in
my chair
and stare
at the ceiling,
while I smoke
some weed
and wonder why
I haven’t found
any meaning
in my life
yet.
I wonder if
I ever will,
or if it’s
all just
a useless
waste of
time.
Maybe.
But it’s not
like I have
anything else
going on.
So I
might
as well
just sit here
and waste away
too.
I think
I’ll smoke
another
joint.

Disappointment

I’m sitting
on the couch,
watching the same
TV show that I
watched yesterday,
and thinking about
what exactly I’m
doing with myself.
Binge watching shit?
It’s not even
good shit.
But everyone else
is watching it,
and sometimes it
feels weird
to not do
what everyone else
is doing,
so I keep watching.
It’s better than
doing something
that will
actually count
for anything.
It’s better than
trying to do
something and
failing and
being
disappointed
with myself.
Then a commercial
comes on
and I know
every word.
At least I can
take pride
in that.