Chips

Rough uneven edges

A shower of grains spilled at every bite

Salty, but not too overpowering to the taste

One pop after another

Can’t, won’t stop now

Leave the bag empty

Leave no trace, not a single grain in sight

Lick the remaining goodness on your fingertips

Anticipate the next bag you cut open wide.

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Vertigo 

I can barely open my eyes

And the rectangular lamps that hang above me, promptly providing light are only making it worse

The loud bantering of people nearby are like a series of thunder in a sudden downpour

I want to just crawl, hide, cowl in the darkness

Take a deep sought-after breath, close my heavy eyes, lay in the peace that my pillows bring

Embrace the calm, everything is now quiet in its tranquil place.