by lauren atkinson


obsession and drive,

or the fuel for heartache and rage.

possibly jealousy,


under everything there’s jealousy.

if there’s cracks in your walls:
someone peers through them.
those shitty apartment walls,
if you think aloud
someone is going to hear it.

there’s never an in-between.
you’re the catalyst of emotion
somewhere, sometime
or all the time.


I can’t help myself 

and i peer inside 

my neighbor’s open window.

His blinds open,

an invitation to my careless mind.

we’re all a little sick.