stream of consciousness – Hayden Winston

2025-07-232025-11-13

Sex Sells

you can make your art
make obscure literary references at brunch
drip poetry when you speak
but really all the people want
are the deepest
darkest parts of you
splayed out for them to examine
lurid tales of indiscretions
I am a difficult person
I am an endless void
always hunting in the dark
my mouth, a vault
of bittersweet words
I am a writer
and a scholar
and a slut
an eldest son, so forth and so on
but you just want to see me undressed
in the pale light of this room

2025-07-082025-07-24

35

older now
but no guarantees
of growing any wiser
less garrulous, much colder now
with no respite on the horizon

burn my love letters for warmth
those words were soft and hollow
basking nude in the sunlight
gin-soaked sweat flowing from my brow

the vultures feast on me like carrion
licking my bones, until the flesh is gone
yet each bite makes me feel alive
never thought I’d get to 35

2018-11-192024-10-13

Love(r)

lonely little lover sitting on the shelf, with plastic parts
all shiny and brand new and a tiny plastic heart
consumed with burning desire for you
“love her but it couldn’t work,” you know the old refrain and so years pass and you drift your separate ways.
maybe that’s all for the best, maybe you’re in love with being loved, just a lovely little loner spilling down the drain full of empty compliments and a desperate need to kiss away your pain,
it only hurts for a moment, an excruitaiting bliss, and then you’ve made it through,
that’s just the way
life works kid.