Down

                                                                                Down

 

Deafening whispers surround me.

The quarters so squalid,

There is no room for day planners or sunny days.

My eyes scream,

Though my mouth can hardly whisper.

Darkness and me,

Are late night lovers.

We tango and twist until I am spent.

When the sun comes up, he is gone again.

I start falling like rain, splattering where I land.

Flailing,

Desperately trying to grab a helping hand.

2AM alone,

Gloom in my bones.

I sit silent, as my brain turns to images of a crimson cracked wrist.

Maniac-depression washes over me

I walk the edge with uncertainty.

But then I plunge.

Again. Not again. (f)

110 degrees inside this stuffy apartment. (f)

Daydreams of delusions-

slimy slugs, disease ridden cockroaches-

Start delicately,

Rot, then clot my vision.

I spin the empty bottle of tequila.

It lands on me.

So I kiss the barrel before I cock it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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