(i found this in one of my pockets today while folding the laundry...i dont remember writing it at all...)




At 6am the rain is flooding down in symphonies
In sheet music, a melancholy melody
Distress and distasteful



(The engine is flooded, the meter has run dry.
So there’s no room left in my mind for you)



But I still breathe like an addict, needing more
Pulling in words with worlds apart
Longing into soft pink/charred black lungs



(The air is so empty here.
So full of dry humor and shallow laughs)



And so I wallow in my morning cup of coffee
My head hanging over a weeks worth of routine and an etched out table top
And just then like a poison the side effects sink their teeth in
My mind is just a few seconds behind



My body

And the world tastes of tarnished steel



So now I’m the poster child for every quitter from here to 17th avenue
But she’s the one (worth saving)
Paintings filling up my flesh as they're sticking the pins and needles in
Drugged on an IV drip of Bupropion



And she’s high like silicone silence
Walking through circuitry
She’s enveloped in the security of adoration
Dry and immobilized




She’s living the future






(So I must be living the future too)

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