dust buster needed

leaving my bedroom window open allows for the dirty l.a. air to blow in, bringing along with it dirty l.a. dust. *cough cough!* i hate dusting, mostly because it only pushes the dust back into the air to fall on another piece of furniture. the last line of this poem is the title of a faulker novel that i never finished reading. it too collects dust on my bookshelf.

thin layer of dust
collects on my cold body
as i lay dying.

wasted postal stamps

after a really long haiku hiatus, i've set away some time dedicated only to writing and so i'm back writing for my own mental health... but mostly for your reading enjoyment. ha!

i was reorganizing my desk and happened upon a collection of old letters i wrote that i really wanted to send at one time but never had enough balls (i guess you could say) to send them. they made me sad because if only they were read, some things may be different now, or maybe not. this haiku isn't a complete thought (or sentence of any sort) but i didn't feel like picking at it anymore.

letters never sent
with words never to be read
addressed to no one

november has come

happy first of november. as much as fall is my favorite season, i'm feeling a little down. maybe it's because there isn't as much daylight or that it's cloudy in the mornings or that i'm off prozac. only kidding!! this one reminds me of another haiku i wrote a while ago...

i'm hurting myself
looking for someone, something
that i'll never find.