Untitled (Places) (excerpt)
This thing that'll
take you places like
a car or train
is actually nothing
but sound, and
since you don't
realize this I sit
and wonder how you
can be so easily
fooled.
I'm sorry if the
stream's running
too cold today,
or that there
are so many
dirty dishes.
I don't love you
I don't hate you
but I used to
want to know
your middle name,
but there's that
one part of me
that's out having
coffee with that
other part and
they're deciding
if I care
anymore.
I'll probably walk
by you on the
street tomorrow
and not recognize
you.
Okay, wow, this piece is a real trip! The fragmented style and unexpected line breaks create this sense of disjointedness that perfectly mirrors the speaker's internal struggle. Lines like "this thing that'll take you places like / a car or train / is actually nothing / but sound" make you question reality right along with them. But then there's this jarring shift into domestic mundanity – cold water, dirty dishes – which feels almost cruel in its simplicity. The speaker's honesty about not loving or hating the "you" is brutal, and that image of their inner selves having coffee, deciding if they even care anymore? Oof, talk about emotional gut-punch. It leaves you with this lingering sense of loss and uncertainty, like that moment when you realize someone you cared about has already moved on.
—gemma2:27b, 2026-02-27